Another early morning. 

They were becoming more and more frequent, yet the reason was unknown. “I guess I should expect as much with the ridiculousness I must endure,” thought Mordal, as he opened his bedchamber doors, silently making his way down the corridor, the early morning light reflecting off the various items displayed on the walls, all trophies, brought to him by his faithful generals.

As the sunlight continued to flood the hallway, Mordal couldn't help but become annoyed. The tactical advantages of Morena’s palace were too valuable to surrender, but it would always annoy him that the architects had decided to utilize the sun as a light source.  

Mordal continued down the corridor, his temper worsened at the fact that no servants had closed the curtains in preparation for his wake. “Gods, it's like I have to do everything myself here” the mage grumbled, as he arbitrarily waved his hand, causing thick drapes hanging over the windows to cover the encroaching sunlight.

After successfully plunging the corridor into darkness, Mordal swiftly made his way to the grand staircase ready to make his way downstairs to doll out his orders for the day, but a small squeak to his right soon misplaced all thoughts of daily routine from his head. Conjuring a small ball of light in his hand, the mage turned towards the source of the noise, the soft ball of light revealing a small girl, rag in hand and obviously terrified. 

“Who are you?” Mordal growled, earning him a whimper from the young girl in return. The staff knew that their master hated to see them in the castle, even if she also demanded that every room be kept immaculate at all times. All servants were trained by their superiors to be ready to exit a room at any moment, and most of the time, they did; but there were times when a new servant would forget this rule, like forgetting that the grand staircase is to never be cleaned during the day, lest they face the fury of their unforgiving master. The girl attempted to answer but when she opened her mouth nothing came out. 

“What are you, mute? Speak up!”

The girl fell to her knees bowing down in earnest.“Forgive me, my lord.” She squeaked out. “I was just finishing up the stairs, and I didn’t know you would be awake at this time. I know you ask of us to remain out of sight, but I only wish to make you happy. I beg your mercy, my lord. Please spare me!”

While he could not see her face, Mordal could tell from the quiver in her voice that she was on the verge of tears. Mordal chucked to himself “Stupid little child” he thought. “She really thinks I'm going to kill her over something so trivial. Well, might as well keep the image alive” 

“Stand up.” His voice was measured and soothing, yet the hint of steely terror was enough to have the girl on her feet in seconds. 

“Good I have her right where I want her.”

“Who do you report to?”  

“Housekeeper Harrow my lord,” the girl quickly responded. Mordal narrowed his black eyes at the girl, causing her to become squeamish. For a moment both stood on the staircase, the deafening silence only being broken from the rhythmic sound of armor approaching. The telltale sign of a soldier.   

“What do you want, Lieutenant?” Mordal snapped, his eyes still fixated on the servant girl. 

The soldier came to a stop, a few steps below the odd pair. He had come to deliver a report from his commanding officer, however, it was soon lost in his head, drowned by the intimidation radiating off of the man who had just acknowledged him. Mordal looked down at the soldier, his annoyance now steadily transferring to the timid warrior. “Gods, don’t tell me you're the mute one!”

“N-no, sir. I can s-s-speak.”

Mordal looked the man up and down with a judgemental gaze in his eye. “You can s-s-speak? Well then. What were you sent here to s-say then?” Mordal mocked.

“T-there's a person waiting for you in the throne room.”

 Intrigue suddenly took over the dictator's mind. Many people had come to the castle before, usually to bestow gifted or to plead for sympathy from the man who controlled their land. No one ever entered his domain, well... willingly, that is. 

“Well. This is interesting,” he said making his way down the stairs. Mordal looked back at the young child still frozen in terror, clutching her rag for dear life. 

“You!” He said pointing at her. “You may leave here, however, I will not be so forgiving the next time you cross my path again, understand?”

The girl's eyes welled with tears. “Oh thank you my lord!” he said, eyes spilling over with tears as she made her way down the hall and through the first service door she could find. Once out of sight, Mordal continued down the staircase and towards the throne room, eager to meet the mystery visitor who had come calling.

******************************************************************************

Queen Vira hesitantly walked into the empty throne room. She had been here only once before as a princess, but the bright and welcoming chamber that had once been the heart of Morenian hospitality to all had been reduced to darkness. The once glorious tapestries that had depicted the country's valiant eagle on a crimson background had been torn down and replaced with grey banners. The same eagle adored the somewhat mundane background, but on closer observation, Vira noticed that the eagle seemed more-

“Menacing don’t you think?” A disembodied voice echoed around the hall, causing Queen Vira to look around, her eyes finally resting on the dirk figure casually leaning on a pillar in the mezzanine.

Mordal took a step into thin air, his magic helping him to gracefully glide down. “I wanted to leave a little nod to the former rulers, but that old bird really was too… regal” his mouth curled into a sneer like the word was a foul taste in his mouth. “I must say that this new one definitely suits its purpose.”

Mordal stepped up alongside the young queen, smiling to himself as he explained his-in Vira’s opinion-disturbing artistic choice. Vira re-composed herself, trying her best to look intimidating in front of the dictator. She had a job to do. 

“Mordal I-”

“King, Mordal. If you please.” the dictator said, seemingly already bored with the conversation. “If you have the gumption to walk into my kingdom and my castle and demand an audience with me, you enemy. We might as well treat ourselves to the formalities, queen Vira.” 

Mordal gave a small bow. Viria looked down her hands clenched into fists. “I refuse to call you a king, '' she said anger creeping into her voice.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Mordal gazed over at the young queen. Grabbing her by the chin he lifted her eyes to meet his, the black irises staring into the determined green of the girls. 

“What you have done to get where you are, who you have slain, your lack of conscience makes you no king. You do not deserve the title you award yourself.” Vira spat on the floor, holding the piercing gaze of Mordal as he looked beyond the exterior. 

There was fear. He could see it deep within her, sense it bubbling in her stomach. The girl was uncomfortable, but Mordal had to hand it to the young queen, she didn't show it. He let out a small chuckle, earning a look of confusion from Vira. 

“You know,” Mordal said regaining his composure, “I've seen those eyes before.”

“What do you mean?”

Moral gave a dramatic sigh. “Are you really that oblivious?” This earned a scowl from the queen. “I have seen those eyes before Vira… they’re King Oren's eyes.”

Vira’s composure broke, earning a smirk from Mordal. “Well, looks like we’ve broken the tough girl look, haven't we?" 

“How dare you mention my father's name.” Her voice quivered. 

“Oh, please” Mordal scolded. “You are in no position to demand anything from me.” Mordal flicked his free hand, causing a sharp silver knife to appear in his hand; Vira’s eyes went wide as Mordal began to slowly stalk towards the frightened girl. 

“I think we’ll play a little game," Mordal said, a bored expression dominating his manners. "If you want to skip the formalities, then let's make this quick.” The knife glinted in the light of the hovering orb, as the tip of the blade stopped right in front of Vira, who remained frozen in fear. “I will give you one minute to explain what you want. If I determine your visit was worth my time, I shall spare you. If not… well, you know what'll happen.”

Vira continued to stand still as Mordal lazily passed in front of her, like a predator stalking its prey. Summoning up her courage, Vira began to explain her predicament. 

“As you know, your army has been converging on the border by our northern stronghold. Reports from inside have told me that my men are starving, and exhausted-”

“I'm sorry. Why do I care about this?” Mordal slacked his menacing grip on the knife, settling into a more casual pose. At this disregard, Vira began to stalk forward, only to be stopped by the knife one again poised at her throat. 

“You should care because I am ready to make a bargain.”

“Why princess!” Mordal feigned shock. “I would have never expected so many surprises in one day! You truly have captured my attention! Do continue.” 

“I offer you a deal. Allow, my men, to leave, unharmed from our stronghold. In return, you may take it.”

“And what is to stop me from simply advancing past the borders. Honestly princess, for the sake of a few soldiers you would sacrifice precious territory?”

“Unlike you Mordal, I value the lives of my soldiers. They have families, and if they stay there, death is assured. Besides. Do you really think that I'm stupid enough to trust you? An auxiliary battalion will be waiting for you just outside of the fort's boundaries. Just make sure you and your underhanded minions don’t try anything. 

Mordal’s bored look slowly turned into one of amusement as he processed the princesses' plans. The young queen merely stood there defeated as the man before her burst out laughing.

“You really think that some pathetic army of yours can stop me if you gave up your stronghold?! Really, Queen Vira, I knew you were stupid but not this stupid!” He began to turn away floating back up towards the throne room mezzanine cackling all the way. 

“You see Vira,” he said casually leaning against one of the stone columns adorned with his flag, “I am,” he took a moment to find the right word. “Inevitable? Yes, that is Inevitable. Your soldiers merely need to run out of food and water, and sooner than later, I can simply march into your country with no problem. It's only a matter of time” He gave a small smile to himself as the princess looked on in shock and horror appalled by his lack of concern.

“Know this mordal, we can stop you.”

“No. You can't. But I must admit, it will be fun to see you try.” With a snap of his fingers, the terrified queen was transformed into a small orb of violet light, which went zooming out into the morning sun. In another snap, his captain of the guard appeared next to him on the balcony. Accustomed to these sudden calls, the menacing woman stood at attention ready to receive orders.

“Captain, take a legion of our elite to Esalta, capture the country. Then the Morenian stronghold on the eastern sect. Advance. As far as you can.”

The Captain pondered the order. “Sir why take Esalta? There is not much strategic benefit! It's just a country of horses and elves. They pose no threat.”

“And when has that stopped me?” Mordal smirked. “You see, the objective is not to acquiesce more territory dear captain, we are simply showing the feisty Queen of Morena, exactly who she is dealing with.” He turned away from the Captain, her signal to go and execute his orders. As she went she heard one final call from her master over his shoulder. “Oh! By the way. If you do face resistance from those magical heathens, take no prisoners. I want this message to be loud and clear.” 

Mordal made his way out of the chamber room and back into the main halfway, now reinvigorated by his little chat, the dictator made his way through the castle searching for the housekeeper known as Harrow. A faithful servant kept from the previous rule, she-if mordal remembered correctly-was the one the small girl had said she reported to.

“And we can't have mistakes like that again can we?”

He finally found the housekeeper in the library, a smart move as mordal rarely came in her. Hands behind his back, he made his way towards the old woman, a smile plastered on his face.

“Housekeeper Harrow! How lovely to see you hard at work!” The old woman immediately went into a deep curtsy, ready to revive any order given by her master.

“How may I serve you master?” She said the gracious tone poorly counseling the hint of terror in her voice. 

“Oh, nothing much really. I just thought it was about time that we had a little chat about reorienting workers on the be seen not heard policy?”

“Of course sir,” Harrow replied with her face pailing. If he was bringing this up directly, she knew what it meant. 

“Wonderful!” Mordal said, making his way closer to the frightened housekeeper, a small knife extending into his hidden hands. 

“Why don’t we begin then?”