Just Too Bad
The solemn faerie gazed almost absentmindedly out of the window and down at the scene playing out below. She sat in a high tower, apart from her peers, who were enjoying the mind boggling blue skies and lovely weather outside. She only watched and considered, silent and still.
Bright colors blew in the gentle wind and carefree smiles were being exchanged, while playful talk, jovial music, and peals of laughter rang out, rupturing the otherwise peaceful atmosphere. Everyone looked happy, so content with their surroundings. So calm and serene and lovely. It seemed almost regrettable that, in a way, she was going to destroy this cheerful new utopia, with all its beauty and exuberance, but it wasn’t as if it wouldn’t still exist. The people would live, sure, but all that joy and those unknowing grins would be wiped away faster than anyone could register what was happening, just like certain aspects of the history and memories of the place.
While she had helped to found this thriving new area, the whole founding and ruling arrangement just wasn’t cut out right – she was too significant to be cast as merely one of twelve heroes, as one of three great faeries. It wasn’t her fault; it wasn’t anyone’s fault. She was just destined to be the only one, the most superior of them all, and these people were destined to be united under a sole ruler. And it was her.
The tempo of the music had risen slightly to a song that was easier to dance along to, and she could see Sasha swaying and beating her tambourine to the rhythm. Altador himself was near the shoreline, engaging in conversation with Jerdana and Marak, who was half submerged in the salty aquamarine water of the ocean. Florin was kneeling by a thick patch of wildflowers, inspecting his vegetation once again, while Psellia and Siyana sat nearby him, both laughing and joking, with yellowing tomes lying forgotten beside them in their casual state. Torakor was munching on a slice of watermelon while Gordos laughed at the sight of the watermelon juice and seeds dripping down his chin. Kelland was lounging about under the shade of a tree, engrossed in some book, and Fauna was flopped down on the grass, surrounded by little petpets and stroking the mane of a little Minitheus. They were all happy.
She had to hand it to Altador; he had managed to find the greatest of the great to build the city. The heroes were all so different, but each of them had something special that, when all twelve were combined, could blossom into the most amazing thing in the world. In a way it was like they were all linked by fate and some mysterious trait that they all, in spite of everything, shared. She felt bonded to the others, but nevertheless, she had to be the only leader. She was fated for greatness, and that couldn’t be achieved if she had to share this kingdom with almost a dozen others.
She couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of guilt, but she pushed it aside. There was nothing for her to feel guilty for, nothing that she was doing wrong. She was a dark faerie, the darkest of them, and it was in her nature to be evil. It was in her nature to disregard friendships and others’ trust if she could benefit, and it was expected. It wasn’t as if she were going to destroy anyone – just the history. Just then, Altador looked up and saw her through the window. He waved at her, gesturing for her to come down, a trusting smile on his face.
A smile twitched its way onto her face, and she turned away from the window, heading towards the stairs. She walked down slowly, long dark blue robes swishing at her feet, still thinking about her soon-to-come betrayal of the others.
Of course, none of them would suspect anything, least of all their king. He had always seen the best in them, and had always trusted anyone who crossed his path. It was one of the things that they had sparred most frequently over, her dark nature causing her to look on his naivety and trustfulness with contempt and exasperation. The others were the same, kind, trusting, and foolish. They might have a few suspicions over her distance from them the past few days, but none would believe that she would do anything. Psellia might dream of it, and tell the others, but they would disregard it and call it impossible – they were firm in their conviction that she was different from her sisters.
They all seemed to forget that she was a dark faerie, and trickery and deceit were her natural companions. It had been nice, though. It was nice to have people who believed the best of her, who were her friends and trusted her despite the knowledge that most dark faeries were evil, malicious, and cruel. It was a stereotype, but they had overcome it, and within the kingdom of Altador she didn’t have to think about it.
She reached the bottom of the stairs, and swung open the heavy door to the outside. Warm, vibrant sunlight streamed on her, and for a moment she had to squint before her eyes adjusted to her bright surroundings. Her two fellow faeries beamed at the sight of her, and the rest of the heroes smiled, waved, or called out friendly ‘hello’s, all happy to see her, taking her appearance as a sign that she cared about them and the kingdom too much to betray them.
They were all wrong. She did care about them, wouldn’t have an ill wish when it came to them, but not enough to keep her from being a traitor, so long as it assured her personal gain. Dark faeries were just like that; they would cross and deceive anyone, be it friend or sister, to get what they wanted. And she was going to get what she wanted.
She strode near to the shoreline, close enough to hear Altador, Jerdana, and Marak’s discussion. They turned towards her and waved her over, kindly, trusting smiles plastered on their faces. She grinned and obliged, falling easily into their conversation, feeling slight stirrings of happiness as she sat here with her fellows. For now, she decided, her plans could wait. The times like this were limited, so she might as well make best of them and enjoy her time with her friends. Here, sitting and discussing the wonders of their new land, it didn’t really matter. She could afford to wait a bit before she did the unthinkable.
But even so, the gnawing little bit of guilt wouldn’t leave her alone. It was just too bad, she thought.
Too bad the newly developed city, founded by the twelve heroes, had to come to its end. Too bad she was the Darkest Faerie, and she would be earning the title of ‘the Betrayer’ for a reason. She had been born to do this, to inflict misery upon others. Too bad she couldn’t have been born another person. She wished sincerely that things could have been different.
Just too bad.
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In which Hanso won't give up the location of his home land, and Brynn gets a headache.
|My Enemy, My King: Part Four|
Alaric eased himself down to the bottom of a long, slick wall with only scant handholds, then looked up at the dot of light at the top of the slope and lit his own torch. "The rest of you can come down now!"