FAE the fight against entitlement

THE FIRST DAY OF A TURN IN EVENTS

The Erlking paced the cobblestone of his bedchambers, the cold beneath his feet as cold as his heart. It had been well over two years and his battle was finely over. Nereus's guard had pushed the half fae from their burning cities and into the Bad Lands. Although he would be lying if he said the satisfaction would have been greater had there been thousands of heads hung on poles instead of the meager two hundred and four lining the north battlement wall of his castle for his viewing pleasure, and all full bloods to see. Yet, the view has diminished, even for him as the two hundred and four were now nothing more than scull and bone covered with scraps of clothes that once held the flesh the crows had long ago feasted on. But still, this was Nereus's respite, his reward. That, and the knowledge that any fae that had ventured into the dense and dark woods of the Bad Lands had never returned.

Three months ago Nereus had ordered all full blooded fae to relocate on the grounds around his castle. From the wooden platforms in the map room and in his private study adjoining his bedchambers. The Erlking was able to watch the development of his people building new cities. With his band on magicked sunlight, only allowing moonlight and lanterns, outside the new cities, the relocation was rapidly coming to completion.

The mark on his cheek throbbed with his thoughts, a painful reminder of the reason to press on to a new Faery Lands of pure fae, and end to the tainted filth in his realm.

Nereus climbed the wooden stairs and walked from arrowslit to arrowlist, viewing progress of his people. The platform under his feet creaked. "At least I've driven them to the Bad Lands!" he screamed. "But hear me!" he shouted at the guard training new recruits far below. "If any survive, I will shove a pole up their arses and out their mouths, then hang them in the graveyard of the tainted with the others, a constant waring to keep our lands clean."

The imprint in his cheek brought him to his knees with a scream of pain. "Damn you, Calastair! I am not finished with you! May the gods of the damned curse you."

Calastair's words the day he cursed Nereus pierced the Erlking's mind. The angel had said, "You don't understand holy fire do you? It only burns those with wickedness in their souls, and the more there is, the hotter it burns. That wound will never go away either, no magic can heal it, and no glamour can hide it. No matter what you do or what form you take, everyone will be able to see the glow of holy fire on your cheek. And it will continue to burn till you repent and cleanse your soul."

"Ugh! Ahhh!" the Erlking screamed, body doubled over, hands crushing his temples and ears as the last words rung loud in the throbbing pain between his palms. The Watcher's last words were, "Something tells me though, you'll be stuck with that mark for a long, long time."

Nereus climbed to his feet and staggered down the wooden stairs to the cobblestones below and shook a fist at the moonlit clouds outside the arrowslit on the wall now above him. "He isn't an angel! He isn't a fae! He's a halfblooded monstrosity! How dare you let him curse me!"

Although he'd not seen or heard from the Watcher in over two years, it was said an image of his face still haunted the Erlking. "Smooth skin, fair, not a blemish on his face, and deep green eyes under flaming red hair. UGH! I hate the atrocity! Someday! Someday I will destroy him!"

Nereus cringed under the pain that could have been much worse had he actually committed the threats he screamed into the night. Each time he ordered the demise of another half breed encampment it was almost unbearable and even more so when he remembered how the slightest thought of cruelty used to bring him such joy.

There was a knock at the door and Nereus swiftly pulled a mask he had commissioned a tailor to design especially for him to cover the Watcher's curse. It was black leather and worn over half his head and under his chin leaving eye and ear holes. The day it was delivered, Nereus had the fae put it on him in his bathing room in front of the only mirror in the castle. "It is a beautiful piece of work," he had said, and then ordered the fae's death. His last words to the faery, a father of three, had been, "Thank you for your service, but you to intimately surveyed my weakness. Your death will be swift."