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Prologue: Red Floret


Author's Note 1a: I want to preface this with a warning that there is significant violence in this prologue. If you can't stand reading about blood, please scroll to the bottom where I will provide a summary of the prologue.

Joseph Mouseking V, lord of all Southsward from Castle Floret to the Lesser South Stream, squashed himself into the ground. Feeling that was not enough, he began to kiss the stones of the floor of the Great Hall that was his not two mornings ago.

His efforts were met with a high-pitched laughter Joseph had associated with his tours of Floret's mental asylum. The mouseking stopped his groveling to look up at the fox who stood before him.

Joseph knew the fox's name - every creature from here to Mossflower would know the name by now - but he could still hardly believe it. Vafír Silvertung, who claimed to be the last heir to the Marlfox name, who threatened Southsward once, sixteen seasons back. Vafír Silvertung, who Joseph thought he had defeated and drove the fox out to the Great Sea, never to be seen again.

But now Silvertung was back, and he had found some army while out traveling the Great Sea. He had ravaged the countryside of Southsward and had arrived here at Joseph's city. Beautiful Castle Floret, which had seemed so invincible and perfect. But the siege had only lasted two days. Now the armies of Silvertung were here in Joseph's city. Silvertung's city, now.

And the only thing the fox would do now was laugh. High-pitched, screeching. There was a mad look in the fox's violet eyes as he barked out his last few euphoric shrieks. Clearing his throat, he looked down at Joseph with a toothy grin. "Mighty Mouseking! Mighty Mouseking! Isn't this hilarious?" He had apparently expected an answer, because he paused before shouting, "It's hilarious! Darkblood, this is hilarious, right?"
The huge rat, over twice the size of any rat Joseph had seen before, who stood behind Vafír let out an uneasy chuckle, not sure of how to treat his leader. "Very funny, Emperor Silvertung."

Joseph tried not to look at the sword Darkblood was holding, which was pushed up against the throat of Joseph's wife, Ara Mousequeen. Joseph could not think about her. He had already given up hope of trying to save her. All he could focus on saving was the four small mice children who stood huddled behind Ara. Joseph's children.

The fox looked down at Joseph, his eyes suddenly thoughtful. "Tell me, good king," he spoke slowly, casually, "Give me a reason why I should not burn your city and leave nothing here but ashes and blood as an offering to God."

Joseph took a moment to process the question, but answered, "My children! Please, they are worth saving, I assure-"

Vafír screamed and kicked Joseph under the Mouseking's chin. He was thrown through the air and landed on his back, letting out a sob. "Listen!" Silvertung shrieked. "I asked about your CITY. Not your CHILDREN. Taking my words seriously, you ridiculous lump of meat! Listen to exactly what I say! Why is your CITY, your CITY, worth saving?"

Joseph opened and closed his mouth a few times before speaking. Joseph found he didn't really know why the city was worth saving. His advisors decided what to build and where, how much to tax, who to let into the city, who to bring into the dungeons. Joseph just gave a speech every once in a while. But he had to say something. If he didn't the fox might kill the children. The children. He remembered a few nights back, Hari, the oldest coming home, talking about how much fun he had at the academy. They were so happy, just a few nights back…

"Academies!" exclaimed Joseph. "Science! Floret's the capital of scientific development in the world!" Joseph was just repeating what Hari had said. "Our discoveries are of tantamount importance!"

Vafír took a deep breath, then smiled. "Yes. Yes, that's a good answer. Science is wonderful. I can assure you, the science of your city will be well-appreciated. Thank you for answering my question so well. In return, I will ask you the question you wanted to answer earlier. Why are your children worth saving?"

Joseph blinked, trying to center his thoughts. He looked at the four of them, so scared, but so precious. "Th-they're perfect," he said softly. "Hari, Hari, he's the oldest, he l-loves science. He wants to become a professor at one of the academies when he grows… he grows up. He will invent great things.

"Ven wants to fix all… all the city's problems. She's always running some ch-charity or another." Joseph chuckled in spite of the situation. "Two weeks back she brought all… all the homeless of Floret into the palace, and fed them." Joseph looked up at Vafír, who's stare was imperceptible. Coughing, the Mouseking returned his eyes to his terrified children, who looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Josar will be a knight. He already trains with the palace guard. He's disarmed me, once. He will be a hero. He'll be a hero." Josar was crying, looking at his mother. Don't think about her.

"Hosar will be a charitable science knight. He follows all his siblings around, trying to be like them. And he's perfect. They're all perfect. Perfect." Joseph looked up at Vafír. "Please, please. Take my city. Take my life. Take my wife. Let them live."

Vafír was smiling. Not a toothy grin, a genuine, kind smile that seemed out of place on his scarred face. "Of course. Thank you for answering my question so well. They will be spared, of course. You're wonderful at answering questions. Aren't you just wonderful?"

Joseph blinked. Had he succeeded? Would his-

"You're wonderful, right? Answer my question, you meaty lump of ridiculousness!"

Joseph flipped over, back on the ground. "Yes, yes, of course, Silvertung." He began kissing the ground again.

Vafír Silvertung stared down at the mouse in silence, smiling, for a little. Then, once again, he started laughing.

"Mighty Mouseking! Mighty Mouseking! Isn't this hilarious?"

"Hilarious, my lord," said Darkblood, this time without prompting. After a brief pause, the huge rat added a weak laugh.

Vafír nodded. "Hilarious! So hilarious, in fact, I've come up with a wonderful new idea. Bluenose!"

A weasel who stood near the palace door looked up. "Yes, emperor?"

"Bring a message to every resident of the city. Let them know that every mouse is to gather in the palace courtyard."
"Mice, my…" Bluenose thought better of questioning his master and left, the doors swinging behind him.

After a few moments, Joseph looked up at him. "What… What do you… What are you going to do?"

Vafír gave that kindly smile again. "We'll kill them all. Every mouse. I think that will be hilarious, don't you?"

Joseph felt cold. "What? No… no… what?"

The fox nodded, then looked back at his huge rat servant. "In fact, I think we'll start with your family. Darkblood?"

The huge rat flicked his sword, and Ara Mousequeen's head came off, rolling across the floor in pooling blood. Darkblood then turned to the children, who started screaming.

Joseph let out a scream of his own, and stood up, running at the fox. "NO! You said you'd spare them! No! No! You said-"

Vafír Silvertung grabbed the Mouseking by the throat and gave him a toothy grin. "You should know not to take my words seriously, you lumpy, meaty ridicule. Don't listen to exactly what I say."

Behind the fox, Joseph saw Ven fall to the ground, all bloody. Joseph let out a whimper. "I'll… I'll… someone will… you'll get killed. You'll die, one day. And you'll deserve it." There were tears in the Mouseking's eyes, and he could hardly see the fox.

Vafír pulled Joseph close to whisper in the mouse's ear. "God fears me. He comes to me at night, in my dreams, and waves a sword at me, and tells me death is at the end of my path. But he tells me that because he is afraid. Afraid of what I can do." Vafír let out a quiet laugh. "It's hilarious. Hilarious! You think you can stop me, when god himself cannot."

The fox turned around and heaved Joseph through the air, directly at Darkblood. The huge rat stabbed the king through the gut.

As darkness clouded his vision, Joseph's last thoughts were, Who's God?


Darkblood sat in a plush chair in the royal bedroom of Castle Floret, staring at the sleeping form of the last Marlfox.

Of course, Vafír Silvertung wasn't actually a Marlfox. That was obvious by his pale white fur and violet eyes, as opposed to the silvery-gray fur and yellow eyes of the Marlfox. Even if he were a Marlfox, he wouldn't be the last one, as there were several still alive in the Western Continent.

Yet, Darkblood still followed him.

His paws shook. He had washed them seven times, but could not get the stain of blood off them. After killing the Mouseking and his family, he had been sent out for the genocide. He must have killed nearly three score today. And that number paled compared to the overall death toll, over a thousand mice and anyone old or weak who were now being carted into the mass graves outside of Floret. They never fought back. They stood there, crying, as Darkblood and the rest of the army mowed them down. The only ones less lucky were the many, many scholars and scientists of Floret, who were tortured to death so Vafír could discover all the secrets of Floret's science.

The survivors of the city would be sent out to the farms. There, they would be isolated and afraid. Inversely, those that lived out in the farms, unused to interacting with people and unlikely to assemble and revolt, would be brought into the city.

Darkblood fought a badger once. Now that was living. Face to face against someone as skilled as you, death awaiting the slightest failure of either side. He remembered how the badger's eyes clouded with a red mist as the joy of battle overtook it. There was kinship there, the only kinship Darkblood really understood, the love of the fight.

What he did today was not like that. Killing defenseless mice. What had he come to? It was all because the fox found it funny for some reason. Who ordered the death of all those creatures? Darkblood shouldn't be blamed, Silvertung should be.

Yet, Darkblood still followed him.

Darkblood wasn't even his real name. His real name was Drudly. Vafír came him the name "Darkblood" after a dead rat named "Darkclaw", who was second-in-command to another dead rat named "Cluny", some warlord Vafír admired greatly. Technically, it was "Darkblood Ratking", since Vafír made him lord of the Big Island when the fox conquered the island at the beginning of his reign, sixteen seasons back. A useless title since Vafír hadn't yet retaken the Big Island since he lost it at the Battle of The Toadlands.

Drudly had lived on the Big Island, along with many other rats. They lived peacefully, doing nothing but farming since the Marlfox had been defeated. An eagle named Lord Megroc had led them. Drudly spent his days working farming equipment, laughing at his family's jokes that he must have some badger blood in him, from the days when badgers ruled the island, and that's what explained his size.

Then Vafír Silvertung came. He claimed, as the Last Marlfox, the island was his. He slew Lord Megroc. He slew any rat who resisted him, including Drudly's little brother. He then ordered every rat who could lift a sword to join him on a conquest of Southsward, and Drudly followed him, hoping not to bring any more sorrow to his family.

Most of that army died in the battle of the Toadlands. More died in the journeys out West. Drudly died, too, and now all that's left was Darkblood. Because of the fox.

Yet, Darkblood still followed him.

Three books lay on Vafír Silvertung's bedside table, and he read them frequently. The first was titled Bloodshed, and was a description of the many campaigns of the long-dead warlord Cluny the Scourge.

The second was a collection of paperwork related to the management of a long-ruined fortress called Marshank, which employed several hundred slaves. Vafír wanted to learn about how the slaves were managed.

The third was a long-winded philosophical ramble by the long-crownless King Verdauga Greeneyes titled The Nature of Power. Vafír would often spend many hours reading the book, crossing out passages and adding in his own annotations and philosophies, muttering under his breath. It seemed to Darkblood that the emperor was having a philosophical debate. With a book.

Vafír was mad. Utterly insane. He often spoke of some "God". Darkblood wasn't really sure who "God" was, though a few of the Westerners believed in him. Vafír seemed to think his destiny was to destroy God in some battle. Vafír could win battles, that Darkblood knew. Yet, he was mad as an shrew.

Yet, Darkblood still followed him.


In his dream, Vafír Silvertung stood above the mass graves outside Castle Floret. He stared down into its depths, and hundreds of dead eyes met his stare. He gave a satisfied chuckle. It was very funny to him, but he had other reasons for the genocide of the mice. He couldn't have anyone else claiming to be the next Mouseking, could he?

After a few satisfied moments, Vafír looked up, staring across the graves. On the other side stood a mouse, a living one. God. Dressed in a blue cloak, he held a great shining sword with a red pommel stone.

Vafír smiled, preparing himself for the familiar dream. God would point his sword at Vafír, and tell him doom awaited all evil beasts.

Instead, God kept staring down into the graves, holding his sword limply at his side. After a few moments of silence, he looked up, tears in his eyes. God opened and closed his mouth a bit, then uttered one word.

"Please."

Vafír Silvertung laughed. He laughed as if he had never laughed before. God would be the one doomed, alright. Vafír would kill him.

Author's Note 1b: SummaryJoseph Mouseking of Southsward grovels before Vafír Silvertung. Joseph thought he had defeated Silvertung a long time ago and sent him sailing west, but now Vafír has returned and conquered Castle Floret. Despite Joseph's groveling, Vafír kills every mouse in the city in a large genocide.

The next part is from the perspective of Darkblood, Vafír's second in command. Darkblood reflects on his guilt for the genocide, his history as a free rat on Big Island (previously called Marlfox Island) before Vafír took Darkblood into service, and Vafír's insanity.

The third part is inside a dream of Vafír's, as he is visited by the spirit of Martin the Warrior (who Vafír calls God). Martin is terrified by the atrocities of the genocide, and Vafír laughs as he believes he can defeat "God".

Author's Note 2a: I'm back! It's only been three years since I was last on this site.

Anyway, The Dark Empire: Version 1 was not necessarily… good. However, it was fun to write at the time, and I definitely think I learned a lot from the experience. Furthermore, I recently have had a random burst of inspiration, and decided to create The Dark Empire: Version 2. I can't promise that I'll finish it, but I have already written the next few chapters, which I'll release soon.

Author's Note 2b: As far as my thoughts on this prologue, I think it's too bloody. The Dark Empire: Version 1 was written by someone who thought that just because characters died a lot meant that the stakes would seem high and that would make the story good. I don't want to do that again, but this prologue isn't exactly a good example of turning a new leaf. Also, one of the next few chapters I've written is also very violent. Overall, though, this fic won't be as bloodthirsty as the first (if I actually finish this), though I still may switch this to a Mature Rating.

However, I think the violence here is a bit necessary. Vafír is considerably less sympathetic than he was in Version 1, and I wanted to make his evilness apparent. I also wanted to get a more interesting setup for Darkblood.

This fic is 100% a product of late-night inspiration. Enjoy if you can, or don't if you can't, but any reviews are more than welcome.