A Modern Fairytale

The king of imagination

If you really wanted to kill him, why would he still be alive? Is theresomething special about him? Did you slip? Tell me, Valerie...

☆☆☆

Death is an inevitable part of life. He knew it. He knew it, and yet...

"Ah...no..."

Tears fogged up the surface of his spectacles. He decided to simply take them off. It wasn't as if he couldn't see without them, anyway. Plus...he wasn't sure if he wanted to see this too clearly.

He watched the wagon pass by. Without looking inside, he knew what was inside—a woman with a little girl in her arms, the latter of whom was no longer breathing. He had visited the family just a day ago. He'd sung to them, he'd watched the girl open her eyes and smile at him, breathing a soft "thank you" because she felt slightly better. And he'd known, too, that he could not bring back the dead. His music, at least, should be effective. If so, then, why...

A thumb brushed across his cheek, wiping a tear away. He turned to find a fiery-haired young woman looking upon him, her blue eyes gentle but cautious.

"Valerie, what...what should I do now? I couldn't do anything. What if I..." the boy mused.

"Think of all those that you have healed," said the girl named Valerie, "Iefan, tell me: who will it help if you hurt yourself?"

"N...no one."

"What's the next useful thing you can do now?"

"Maybe help out with the funeral, but...will her mother want to see me?"

"Yes."

"Oh, okay. Thank you, Valerie."

Long, long ago, a false angel was saved from becoming a fallen angel.

☆☆☆

Long, long ago, in a region far, far away from the majority of human civilization, there lived a king in a fortress. The kingdom was known as Venethema. For decades, it had been a self-sufficient kingdom—or so it seemed to the outside world. Long had it been since anyone was last seen coming in or out. Throughout the years, only a couple of attempts had been made to invade the land, for two reasons: one being that very little was known of it and none was even sure there was anything worth looting, the other was related to a rumor.

Rumor had it that the soldiers of Venethema rose where they fell, if and when they fell. However many were slain, it made no difference—they simply stood back up.

As for the king himself, rumors had it that he traveled amongst his people every so often, but maintained a distance from them so that none could ever touch him. None from the outside world knew what he looked like or how old he even was—possibly quite old now, considering that Venethema had put itself in isolation only since this sovereign, and this sovereign had ruled for decades.

"What a mysterious kingdom," voiced King Alasdair, ruler of Rectitia—a rapidly expanding kingdom with its capital on an island. He let out a soft chuckle, twirling a loose strand of golden hair behind his ear. "Valerie, what do you think?"

Sitting across from him, the crimson-haired female took only a glance at the map between them before she nodded.

"I'll have a look, Sire, and bring back a souvenir for you."

☆☆☆

Rumors are often a fabricated version of the truth.

This time around, Valerie could not see the fabrication—not initially, at least. Venethema's soldiers indeed stood back up every time they were cut down. She noted, however, that they did not heal. The fallen simply vanished; in their place, a new soldier rose.

"Hm..."

Valerie disappeared from view. Where she'd previously stood, a speck of gold dust remained. Barely the size of a human thumb, she shot up into the sky and toward the fortified land. The fortress was protected not only by walls, she noted, but a spell specially designed to keep humans out. That spell was...

...a joke. She flew right through it. Spells were used by only two races, and she belonged to one of them.

As such, the fairy arrived at a tower before long. From there, she traveled till she reached the throne room. At first glance, it was a glorious throne room, decorated in silver and gold, sparkling and shimmering. On the throne itself sat an equally dazzling king, with his robe red and mantle white. Still as a statue, he held in his hand a crystal globe, watching the battle outside played in full view within the sphere. His golden locks flowed seamlessly down his back, almost reaching his knees; his emerald-green eyes almost glinted in the slightly dim room.

The fairy landed soundlessly in front of him, her wings disappearing as she took to her normal, human-size again. All of her was shrouded except for her eyes.

"A fairy?" mused the king, his voice as smooth as his hair. "Then you must like the way my castle looks, yeah?"

"Oh, I do," Valerie answered. "But do you know what else I'd like?"

The king looked up, a smirk on his lips. "What would that be, little missy?"

"Your name."

"Ulric."

Without another word, Valerie surged forward, her blade beheading the king who had just named himself and her heel knocking the globe out of his hand.

"...and your head on a platter."