k i n g

The past

Three crowns for the queen who fought the fates.

“My favourite part about being in love is not being in love, it is him loving me, and knowing that in his eyes there is not a single thing he would change about me.”

The words echoed in Meryasek's head, a voice so familiar that he thought he should know it immediately. There were two beings, bathed in light that made it so difficult to see their faces. Their hands were together, a secret that was clearly meant to remain that way.

There was a child, something that wasn't exactly fey – and a flower, the same that was once given to Titania during her imprisonment, though it wasn't like Meryasek remembered that, either.

Silence as the Otherworld swirled around them, a comment about how the archfiend could take the child, no worries about passing it off as something that it wasn't. There was a whispered no, the fey queen remembering a time where their child had not even made it past birth. There was a moment where Mery felt unsteady, like he was supposed to realize something – yet nothing came forward.

"I've lost one before, I won't do it again." The words echoed in Meryasek's mind, though as he tried to see who spoke those words, his vision blurred. The realm they were in was unfamiliar, but it wasn't as if he had any memories to pull from. What was his name? What was he doing here? Moving forward, Mery got closer to the elven woman, a young queen who looked between her child and her lover.

"No one may know. Not even him." She looked back down, a crushed bit of flower in her fingertips as she put it into the child's mouth. All at once, the wings seemed to curl back in to the small body, the freshness of spring surrounding the small family once more.

"This is not the end," Titania murmured, nature surrounding the two of them as the new eladrin opened his blue eyes. "One day, we will meet again. All of us."

Meryasek felt emotion catch in his throat, he wanted to speak out – say something to get their attention, but he could not. Instead, he felt himself fall.

The future

Two crowns for the children that may be.

"I was told you'd be here. Right on time, too."

Meryasek opened his eyes when he heard the voice, sitting up from where he was laying on a forest floor. The autumn leaves around him lifted slightly, like they were floating around in a small dance around the royal fey. His mind was muddled, like he was supposed to be reacting to something, but all he felt was a strange sense of peace.

"Hey! Over here. Stop ignoring me. That's rude."

Mery's gaze lifted now to an elf like woman, one blue eye and one gold, as she stared back at him from the tree. Her form was inconspicuous, really, dressed in plain clothing. The only way he knew she was an elf were her ears, sharp like his own that he hid away at all times. As if on cue, he lifted his hand, touching his own pointy ears – had they always been like that? Who was he? What was he doing here? "Where am I?"

"I ask the questions," she was mostly joking, jumping down now and offering a hand to the king before she pulled him to his feet. "Do you remember your name?"

It felt like a fog that Mery had to wade through, who he was coming to mind after a moment, "Meryasek." That was all he remembered, however, but the elf started moving away from him, and he stumbled to try and keep up. "Wait! You didn't answer me. Where am I? What is this place?"

"We call this place home. It's the Court of Stars. We have a lovely Queen." The stranger continued to speak, waving her hand as she explained the demiplane. It was mostly an untamed forest, stuck in a perpetual autumn, and some of the trees were as thick as houses. Fey creatures skittered by, causing Mery to jump slightly as his guide laughed. "You're like a little baby. I thought you'd have seen all these things before."

Familiarity edged at the recesses of his mind, but it was stuck – forbidden to be pulled forward as Meryasek found himself at ease. "I have. I think – well, I've seen some of them. I have...a cat-sith." That brought warmth to his chest, a happy feeling that he had remembered something.

"Yeah, yeah. I know all that. I was never able to have one because one of my fathers was always the target of their pranks." She continued forward, stopping as they reached the edge of the forest. Snow topped mountains were in the distance, separated by a river that flowed through the realm. Stars forever glittered above them, Mery's guide announcing that they were actually living beings, until finally his gaze found the crystalline palace.

"Is that where your queen lives?" Meryasek felt like maybe that's who he should've been speaking with, but for what reason? He couldn't figure it out.

His guide turned now, her mismatched eyes dancing with mirth, "Yes. Figure that out all by yourself? Come. I want to show you my favorite garden." In an instant, the two were wrapped in wings made of light, relocated now on the edge of a garden, Meryasek falling on his ass when the teleportation vertigo hit. The large crystalline spires of the Queen's palace loomed above them now, an aura of magic that was familiar pulsing within Meryasek's chest. Something felt off, like he was supposed to be able to provide his own magic, but nothing happened when he looked at his hands. It took him a moment, but he was able to see the garden floor through them, like he was an astral projection – a consciousness without a body.

"You're dying, that's why this all feels strange. Sorry, should've mentioned that. But don't panic. Get it? It's funny because you're alive but you're not so..." The stranger trailed off, realizing the joke clearly went over Mery's head. She waved her hand with a sigh, "Hopeless, really. Anyway..." She cleared her throat, helping Mery to his feet now. "Your face tells a story. You've never been good at hiding it, have you?" She looked slightly more sympathetic, a staff appearing in her hand. There seemed to be an ethereal glow about it, perhaps explaining how she could do these things, as wings appeared from her back. They were dark, raven-like almost, as she was never truly an elf to begin with.

Meryasek's confusion turned to despair. "I'm dying? You could've said that," he breathed, looking down at himself yet seeing nothing to truly be concerned about. He turned around, looking all over the garden, though it looked serene – almost peaceful. Dying here couldn't be so bad. But why was he dying? "I don't...I don't understand. I feel like I'm supposed to be doing something. I'm...I have to be somewhere. I can't die. Not yet. I have..." Family. He knew that's what it had to be, didn't it? He loved too earnestly to leave them all behind. Perhaps it was selfish of him, or perhaps they were ready to let him go.

"I know," the not-elf looked sympathetic, but only for a moment before it disappeared. She tilted her head now, magic floating between them. Familiarity, love, they shared it, but the woman knew their time was fading. "You're grieving. You'll always be grieving. These worlds are full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater.” She seemed wiser beyond her years, a bit of grief in her own gaze as she knew goodbye was imminent.

A third presence filled the garden; a tall, lanky elf that held similarities to the woman that had dragged Mery around the Court of Stars. "I told you that he couldn't stay long, nys. Already the realm shivers."

The woman sighed, but she didn't address the warrior that had appeared, she instead turned to Meryasek, "That's my brother. I think he forgets whose court this is," she whispered, a smile on her face now as her entire being changed. Bathed in an celestial light, Meryasek found it hard to even look at the stranger anymore. She grinned a little, "It was nice to see you, Meryasek. But you have a lot to do."

Meryasek looked down as her hand came out, touching his chest as he started to slowly dissolve into light. Words were being spoken, but Meryasek wasn't even sure who he was or where he needed to go – "Wait – what am I supposed to be doing?"

The queen laughed, her raven wings lifting her into the air. Her mouth did not move, but words rang in Meryasek's mind before he dissolved completely, Tell our father we say hello.

The present

One crown for the daemon king of ashes.

The Otherworld was a vast place, full of beauty, galaxies, empty and thriving worlds – but there was also darkness. Fiendish existences that were on the outlying worlds. Worlds that were long thought to be dead, or perhaps inhabited by those who had come across the civilizations that had been destroyed by others or by the Spellplague. This one was empty – broken rocks and rivers that flowed into the sky, but lifeless. It was an echo of the one realm he'd seen, but a lifeless version – there were no stars, just a black sky, ground that was brightened by the fire beneath it, and an empty throne surrounded by broken stone pillars.

Meryasek felt more whole than he had when he'd first opened his eyes. He'd known his name, met two strangers who were somewhat like him, watched as the past unfolded before his eyes, and now he was met with nothing.

That's yours.

The voice was whispered to him, wrapping around him like a wraith and enticing him forward. Meryasek's steps felt heavy, like he was carrying something invisible. The armor he was wearing was blackened with ash and blood, making it harder and harder to breathe. Perhaps it was the smell of sulfur that made him gag, or the blood he tasted in his mouth. It seemed like it was just his body fighting him as he made his way to the throne. Voices were screaming in his ears, the sounds of death that he'd heard once before, others crying out for help. The moment his fingers gripped the gilded throne, the weight lifted, and silence filled the area once more.

They all left you to die.

"Who?" he whipped around to find a figure, though it was only formed of smoke. There were no features to it, just golden eyes staring back.

Your family.

The voice seemed to be an echo of multiple, all ones he felt like he knew. The spirit lifted its ghastly hand, pushing Mery back onto the throne. He couldn't move from it, watching as his body seemed to sink into the stone. "Don't–" he breathed, panic in his voice until memories began to swarm his mind.

A mother, a queen – one who loved him yet expected nothing of him. A brother he didn't know, yet cast his shadow over every bit of Mery's life. A second brother, one who worried more about Mery than what his duty asked of him. A lover, who died to save him yet was brought back once more to be by his side. Why were they all absent?

You always let them down.

Everything was thrown onto Mery in that moment, like a lock was undone as he knew what had happened. Ayi'ig, with her heart in her hand, then nothing. Why had no one been there for him? He'd sent them away to find help, and he'd stood by, waiting. That wasn't him. Mery had been given a crown, and he'd taken it because it was the least he could do for the fey that needed someone to lead them. It meant shouldering the blame of those who had no one else to blame but him, of doing what he could to be firm but kind. Of taking matters into his own hands when no one else would. Deals that would break with his death, if this was truly the end – a finality that meant he would be born as another of Ayi'ig's sons. A second child for Titania to mourn.

Clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty forever beyond his reach.

"This wasn't meant to happen. I have..." Children. Dareth. Titania said she would return; she'd told Mery for centuries growing up that the elves were the most beautiful of creations, that while his dreams were childish, there were memories of beautiful places that the fey had belonged. That he was worth it all and more. Meryasek wanted to see those places, it's what he'd dreamt about as he'd sit on the beach, Farenduil beside him, weaving together a crown made of shells and sand for the heir. "I can't be finished."

No one believed in a boy king. You have your throne. You will die on it.

It was rage that he felt within his core. Anger at those that had left him. Dareth promised he'd never leave him again, promised; Farenduil and Aegnor were gone – a bond that didn't include him. A shadow that loomed over Meryasek, the youngest and the one that did not have a care in the world. He felt pain, raw agony that bloomed from his chest. There was a hole in his armor now, where his heart should have been, a dead space that had blood seeping from it, dark tendrils that snaked like thin veins crawling forward from it.

"I won't go," he breathed out, fighting to pull himself from the throne. "They would never leave me." He was released instantly, the throne crumbling to ash as Mery fell forward. The ground beneath his palms felt warm, fire creeping from under his fingertips that felt like a hum of magic.

His ears remained the only elf-like feature of his, but his back began to seize. It felt like his skin was being pulled apart as wings began to tear themselves free. They were draconic like, a mix of various shades of black. On the top of his head, he felt the horns begin to push through, only slightly hidden by the curls that were now stained with blood. All at once, he felt like he was burning. Demonic in nature, his true self once more.

Will your rage define you?

The voice was only Titania's now, and it made Meryasek's eyes snap open. The fire seemed to recede into the ground, his eyes shining red for the first time. "No," he breathed, looking up as he saw two figures. One held the shape of Titania, a gilded crown on her head, no longer bound by the sickness that had plagued her for so long.

Then stand up.

Daemon, the voices began to whisper once more as Meryasek pushed himself to his feet, fey'ri. For the first time, nature did not call to him. Hellfire answered in its stead as Mery stood up, wings unfurling. There was magic of song that responded to him, doing whatever it was he wanted – an ounce of familiarity – and a hatred that burned within him. If the drow queen wished for his death, he wouldn't give it to her. Yet death he would become. War ran within his veins, unleashed finally as he would become the archfiend and archfey that he was meant to be.

Titania's voice echoed once more, a vision of an unknown figure behind her. Tall in stature, sandy hair that matched his, the sounds of war and death in the very echoes of his eyes – Mars.