He Who Defies Court

The Faerie King, Alaithor, held his bloodstained crown of black thorns, death lilies and poison ivy in dismembered pride and anguish. He looked at himself in his glossy reflection pond with a mixture of grotesque joy and divine disgust. It was the final piece of his ensemble. He wore his robes of thorn bush and spidervine with his scepter of gnarled redwood that has a glistening bruise purple jewel. Though he stands at six foot two, his robes drag behind him like train of a wedding dress. As a servant enters the room to fetch him for court, he turned his piercing cerulean eyes to her glaring a hole in her soul. I have to keep up appearances. They can't know that I'm not what they want!

"Your majesty, the court is ready for you," she whimpered timidly.

"The court is ready when I say its ready," he spat. His tone is royally cruel and malicious.

She flinched back, bowed quickly and scurried out of the room.

He looked at himself in the mirror one last time then put on his crown, grabbed his scepter and stalked out of his room. He seemed to darken the hallways with his ominous presence. The crimson roses look black, vines look shriveled and dead, the scenes on the vases seem more sinister than usual, and the satin draped down the walls looks like blood oozing from the crevices of the ceiling. The court room didn't look any better. His throne is made from the polished bones of his enemies. The sap from tree made the walls look like they wept blood. His throne is raised in the center of the room but there were also pits of a sort. They are sitting pits for the people but there were no seats. They all had to cram and smash in the confined space and listen to their king berate their inability to exist. When he took his seat on his throne his people were already in the pits poised for the abuse.

"What idiotic reason did you call me for now?" He bellowed.

"Well, I need justice brought for my son," her bottom lip trembled before she continued, "he, he was murdered."

"Was he now?" He responds bored.

"Yes, he was," she says angrily. "Are you going to bring about justice?"

"Do you have any evidence that backs up this accusation?" He asks unconcerned, still looking bored. But on the inside he is boiling. Though he hid it well, they couldn't know he wasn't the real one. So, he once again put his true feelings into a pocket he created inside himself and fostered the nonchalant aura he needed.

"I have a witness," she shoved forward her youngest daughter of eight years old.

"Mommy, I don't want to. Big brother said it was a secret between me and him," the girl said shyly. "I pinky promised that I wasn't going to tell anyone and I keep my promises."

"Well, honey, this is important. You need to tell the King what you saw."

"But big brother said I can't tell anyone what he found out. He said people get mad and yell and stuff."

"Tell me what you know, now." His eye twitches.

"Baby, just tell the King what happened."

"No, I promised not to tell."

The mother's and Alaithor's voices overlap as they both yell at her. She begins to shake and sob as they yell louder. The whole court is chaos, everyone is yelling this point. "Big brother found the chosen one who would take over the kingdom!"

The newfound shock silenced the room. "What do you mean 'chosen one'?"

"When me and big brother were playing in the forest. I got a vision, a prophecy, and it took over my body. I told it but it wasn't really me, the voice and aura was different. I glowed it brought attention to us, there was h-hunters out there. They, they shot at us and bi-big brother shield me. He makes me promise that I won't tell." Her body racks as she tries to pull herself together. But as soon as she calms down, the spirit of the Prophetess Meda takes over her. Her hair floats up, her eyes and body begin to glow and shine bright.

Find the one whose soul is more,

Whose blood opens every door,

Who controls more than water or air,

Whose fire brings more than flare,

Whose earthen magic keeps the care.

The one who shall dethrone,

A heinous ruler to atone,

Whose eyes can no longer see,

The one who will set our kingdom free,

Whose soul is one with the World Tree.

The one whose quest ascends the grave,

A ruler, a monster, and a hero to save,

A human who was never born brave,

An imposter no longer whose power they stave,

To stop a friend from being a slave.

Two are destined life,

One whose life has always been a strife,

The other who doesn't know how to weild a knife.

The one whose identity is hidden,

Whose love has always been forbidden. These two shall take the crown

For their love is where light is found.

After she finished spewing the prophecy, she collapsed in place. Her mother ran to her and picked her up gingerly.

"Court dismissed, everyone needs to leave right now."

"But what about my son," holding her daughter tight to her chest.

"I promise I will handle it later. Right now, the prophecy is more important. It dictates our entire life." He let his facade slip away. He revealed a bit of himself unintentionally but he had bigger problems to worry about. Aliathor needs to talk to the real faerie king.