They watched the hero lead his army through the capital gates, still so far away from their castle. The King of Dismay lifted his Queen’s hand, pressing his lips into her palm. She was turned slightly towards him, her dress train fanning out from the balcony in swathes of blood red fabric. She smiled up at him, her severe silhouette of sharp lines and cruel edges at odds with the tenderness glinting in her ruby eyes.
“He approaches, Heart.” He said, watching his minions turn to ash or shadow as the hero charged through them. The army behind him roared its approval as it chased him. A beast made of three hundred bodies.
She took back her hand, resting an elbow on the balcony to watch the hero. His hair was blue, helmet obviously not part of his image. She spied his spell castor running behind him, waving her staff in irritation at him.
“I like his style,” she smirked, “I’m very sick of stealth runs.”
“They lack style, that’s true.” Her husband agreed, “although I think its nicer on our subjects.”
She waved a hand dismissively, clapping her hands in delight when the hero used a three stroke kill move. His sword burst into flames, the swordsman running with it trailing behind him before causing a wall of flames before him.
“Oh, he’s got flair.” She grinned, transforming her disdainful face impish.
She turned from the sightseeing, clicking her fingers at the shade attendants waiting by the balcony entrance.
“This one needs… extravagance,” she concluded, “If he’s using sword and magic he must be worthy of some performance. I better change. Happy overthrown day!”
The King stepped in her path, stopping her as he gripped her chin and lifted it up. She accepted his kiss, running a hand down his long, intricately braided hair.
“Too bad he’s so efficient.” He purred against her lips, “I could watch him for hours. Carnage isn’t just for the dark hearted.”
She reached up to run a hand up one of his horns resting against his ears, “You’re a savage.”
He gently pulled her stroking hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. “One cannot abandon their purpose. Even in the midst of losing my crown.”
She smiled and left him, the flickering flames of a burning city leaving a pleasing smokey scent in the air.
.OoO.
The King of Despair watched his wife pad into the throne room, her face striking in blacks, reds and golds. She raised a perfectly formed eyebrow and he tilted his head in approval, opening his mouth slightly to show his fangs.
She waved her attendants back to the shadows, taking her place beside her King. He was dressed to match her, golden rings woven into his hair. His black, spiked armor was dented in a practical way, showing he was no puppet. But a ruler. And a cruel one.
The queen held her scepter with barely contained glee, her eyes hazy as she considered the spells to use. She was Queen of the dead after all.
Her eyes snapped to attention just as the large lead doors opened, revealing their guests.
The King of Despair turned to watch his wife’s mask slip over her face. He loved watching the skull facade glimmer across half her face. The cruel smile curved her full, bloody lips. She was chilling in her spider lace dress, in the way her red eyes bore into her victims.
He turned in time to see the hero also hesitate for a moment at the sight of them, holding his sword before him like a child clutching a teddy bear.
“Your kingdom is ashes. Your minions dead. Your city broken.” The paladin yelled, storming up to their raised thrones.
“Before the Sword of Primas you shall fall!” He yelled, glancing behind him as his main party filed into the room. Spell Castor, Thief and Bard.
The Queen waved a hand and the doors behind the party slammed shut, sealing them inside. The Spell Castor squeaked.
“Welcome,” The king rumbled, “You have destroyed my country and pillaged my people. But, good sir. You must know my minions will never truly be destroyed. We are of shadow and ash. You have simply retuned them to their origins.”
“Ashya,” The hero hissed, turning to look at the bard. “You were meant to know what do to here.”
The bard strummed his guitar, “just cut off their heads and we’ll win, Rolland. Drink ourselves silly and pretend like we haven’t slogged through this whole thing on mainly luck.”
“Can you not say that so loud.” The Thief drawled, “also. I’m pretty sure there’s traps. Like, a lot of ‘em.”
The hero groaned, casting his eyes back at his party. “Lacy, just keep me alive. Ashya keep me swinging, and Kien… see if you can get that door open so we can overwhelm with numbers.”
They mockingly bowed before him and he rolled his eyes, turning to his prey.
The king and queen turned to their stares, “oh, are you finished?” The queen smirked, “we were going to request beverages if that was going to take longer.”
The hero glared at them, snarling as he rushed them. The king calmly leaned over to kiss his wife’s cheek, rising and pulling out his sword. He caught the hero’s sword with his own, watching the blades sizzle pleasingly.
“Hello, little Hero,” The King grinned, his fangs popping out, “we have been expecting you.
The knight grunted as he thrust forward with his sword, before pulling back just in time as a jet of black energy zapped between them. He looked over to the queen, a cackle leaking from her twisted lips.
“Dance, hero, dance.” She laughed, arching her back and waving a fire tipped finger. He turned too late to the King, hissing when the blade smashed down into his pauldron and almost dropping him to his knees.
“LACY!” He screamed, flicking up his sword to ward off another sword swing. His mage quivered as she mumbled her spells, sending a golden arrowhead towards the hero. He breathed with relief as her healing magic took effect.
“Thank you.” He sighed, resuming his stance. The Queen raised her scepter with a delighted squeal, calling forth a wave of spiders from the earth. Lacy screamed and ran back towards the doors, stopping when she saw the webs glistening on the walls.
“Get it together,” Kien ordered, the thief sighing, “you triggered the webbing and now I can’t open the doors without activating their occupants.”
He turned to watch the paladin match every sword thrust by the king. Kien noted that the smile on the king never wavered, only grew wider as they fought. The queen smirked, basking in the mayhem as she sent her summoned spiders scuttling down the throne steps.
The three men turned to their quivering spell castor, sweat running down the paladin’s face. “SPIDERS, LACY!”
Lacy quaked, blindly waving her staff through the air in a complicated arc. Fire soon followed, swallowing up the arachnids. As soon as the last spider fell the bard and thief flanked the queen, the bard running his hand down his lute as Kien sliced her with his daggers. The daggers flashed red as they pierced the Queen, her eyes flashing as she looked down at the holes weeping in her stomach. She made no noise, turning her head to the side in amusement as she beheld the blood.
The king turned to her wounds as though by instinct, seeing his Queen’s bemused expression. She simply pressed a finger to each wound, licking the blood pooling there.
The brief respite allowed the paladin to fall back, reaching Ashya so he could play some energy boosting rhythms.
“New plan.” The hero gasped, “Put every killing incantation you can into this blade. I’ll time it and run him through.”
“That seems…” Ashya began.
“You’re welcome to try your luck at him.”
“Like a great plan.” The bard grinned.
The king mounted the steps back to his queen, laying a large hand over her wounds.
“The blades were poisoned and spelled. These wounds will not close.” She breathed; eyes alight. “Clever humans.”
The king took her bloody hand, kissing her fingers so her blood pressed against his lips and chin like war paint. Silently he turned back to the party, smiling to show the blood on his teeth.
The hero stepped up, running a hand down the blade he held. In his finger’s wake the blade glowed, waking to his touch. Then he charged, ducking under the king’s swing to slide his sword through his chest and out the other side.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZZiCg6ULJk
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The king stabbed downwards, slicing off the hero’s ear as he laughed. The sword’s glow seeped into the king, sinking into his veins to replace the red with gold. He coughed, letting gilded blood leak out of his mouth.
He stumbled backwards, falling onto the steps as he reached for the Queen. Her wounds had turned a nasty green, leaching her of colour. She elegantly stepped down to his resting place by the dais, pulling his large head onto her lap.
He coughed and spat out blood, looking at the party standing frozen before them. Their first and last audience with the king.
“I welcome the rest you have granted us, hero. We are of the blackest night.” He rumbled. “You shall see us slain. Light spread far and wide. For now.” Then he went still, the last breath and sight for his queen above him.
She smiled, caressing his face lovingly as she moved hair from her King’s face, “never forget,” she said, turning to look at the hero, flicking her head to the side to glance at the spell castor, “every light has a shadow. I shall give my regards to your sons when I see them. May they be as mighty at you.”
Then she pressed a kiss to the king, closing her eyes as she crumpled over him.
As one, the king and queen shuddered and melted into the ground beneath them. Spiders scuttled out of sight, the doors creaked open.
The hero and his party fell to their knees, all of them groaning from the tension.
“Okay, we were told they wouldn’t be hard.” The Kien said, laying out his legs on the marble floor. “I stopped fourteen intended traps. FOURTEEN!?”
“That was messed up.” Ashya agreed, “I was buffing us for so many things. If I stopped playing for a moment we would’ve died in minutes.”
“They really loved each other, hey.” Lacy said quietly, “I’ve never seen game bosses so… obsessed with each other before.”
The three men looked at her, silent as they considered.
“Still crazy.” Kien offered.
“So crazy.” Lacy and Ashya agreed.
Rolland walked over to where his sword lay on the steps leading up to the throne. He picked it up, seeing not a mark on the blade. He considered the love between the villains and wondered at it. Perhaps the AI had grown to love each other over countless deaths. Maybe they remembered. They knew what it was to lose all, and yet be reunited to the same person over and over.
He looked up at the loot waiting beyond the throne room.
“May such love find me,” he mumbled, embarrassed by his own words as he led his party to their reward.
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