FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

1

The massive castle sitting atop the cliff is filled with servants going about their work as always, but something seems amiss. Someone walking into the castle could be forgiven for thinking it empty. The reason for this unusual silence? A crucial piece is missing: the king.

Kingdoms can survive without their ruler but this is no ordinary king. He is the sunlight after the rain, a fire on a cold winter’s night, the light at the end of the tunnel, the Golden One. Like all silences, this one has come to an end with the arrival of a much-awaited message; the Golden One has returned.

As the message of the king’s return spreads throughout the castle, spirits rise and paces are quickened. Everyone wants to be there when he enters the castle so they can welcome him back. Tasks are completed on the double, and a stream of servants pour into the courtyard.

Everyone who is able to leave the castle is now standing attentively in the courtyard, waiting for the king to arrive. They don’t have to wait long until the words they have been waiting for are said.

“Attention! The Golden One, King Reuleaux, first of his name has arrived!” one of the guards on top of the courtyard walls yells out.

Cheers erupt from the group of servants, who only get louder as the king rides through the archway on his black stallion. The king is clad in black armor, that is somehow even darker than his mount, and the shining silver accents on his armor sparkle brilliantly, even in the dim sunlight.

Dismounting his steed, he is met with countless greetings from his loyal servants. Over and over they say, “welcome back!”

When he reaches the doorway leading into the castle, the king turns around and raises the visor of his tiger-shaped helmet. The silvery white eyes staring out of the helmet are not those of a man, but of a white tiger. His white fur stands in stark contrast to the black of his armor, but it's his stripes that leave all who see them in awe. Instead of normal hair, they are made of real gold strands but are just as soft as the rest of his fur. These golden stripes are the result of a unique and powerful magic belonging only to his bloodline. This magic allows those who possess it to have a one-of-a-kind title, Golden One.

The king raises his hands to calm the crowd, and silence quickly follows. “We would like to you all for this heartfelt welcome,” he says in a deep voice that seems to carry for miles. "Knowing we have this," he gestures to the crowd of servants, "to come back to, does so much to alleviate the burdens of traveling. It has been a long ride, so you'll have to excuse us before any odors start escaping this armor." The crowd laughs, and the king waves for a final time before heading inside.

He doesn’t make it far before he sees a man running towards him. “Gottfried, it is so nice to see you, and it looks like you’ve kept busy while I was away.”

The out of breath grey-haired old man stops and bows before King Reuleaux. “It is so nice to see you back safe and sound Golden One.” Gottfried takes a few deep breaths before continuing. “You know I always keep busy, but I’m afraid I’ve failed this time.”

“Let us guess. Our retainer is nowhere to be found?”

“I’m afraid so. No one seems to know where he is. I’ve almost checked the entire castle myself, and the servants I sent out to check his usual spots have found no trace.”

“Walk with us, and let us discuss our retainer.”

“With pleasure Golden One.”

The king indeed wanted to talk about his retainer, but the real reason was to trick Gottfried into taking a break. Despite being over sixty years old, Gottfried is never still as long as there is work to be done. Not even the king can get him to take a break, but the king found asking for advice works as a substitute.

“We’ve given that boy more chances than most, but he just keeps failing. Perhaps it’s time we find him a different task?”

“I believe so Golden One,” Gottfried says with a bit of a sad expression on his face. “It is paramount to have everyone doing their tasks and doing them well, especially on such an important day as this.”

“It is not a very difficult job, almost anyone could do it.” An idea suddenly comes to him. “You there, the one in the raggedy cloak.”

All the servants are dressed in matching white and silver outfits, but this person is wearing an old-looking grey cloak. It is quite modest in comparison to the servant outfits, having only a simple diamond grid pattern along the edges.

The one in the cloak looks at their arms as if making sure they are the ones being addressed or perhaps feeling disbelief at the term "raggedy".

"Yes, you. Remove your hood at once. We wish to see the face of the one we're talking to."

“Your wish is my command, your majesty,” he says with a bow. He quickly pulls the hood back and reveals his face. A human male, probably in their twenties, stares back at the king. The man has light brown skin and eyes. His hair is also brown, but dark enough to be mistaken for black.

Intrigued, the king raises an eyebrow. No one’s ever called him “your majesty” before, but judging from the little smile on his face, he enjoyed it.

“We recognize everyone who works for us, yet we do not know your face.”

“My name is Wendell and I started working in the castle while you were away, your majesty.”

Looking for confirmation, King Reuleaux glances at Gottfried, who nods his head.

“We request that you become our new retainer.”

Gottfried quickly removes the shocked look that appeared on his face.

“That is a generous offer, but I’m afraid I have other tasks to perform.”

“You would deny a direct request from your king?!” This time Gottfried is so bewildered that the shocked expression doesn’t leave his face.

“Gottfried, would you kindly take a break and let us handle this.”

“Absolutely not.”

The king raises his eyebrows and gives him a smile.

“It’s not the same thing,” an irritated Gottfried says as he walks away.

“Pay him no mind, he can be a bit hot-headed. Now, let us walk and see if we can change your mind.” The king puts his arm around Wendell’s shoulders and beings pulling him along. “You don’t need to worry about your current tasks. If there is any trouble just send them to us, and we will deal with them.”

Wendell looks up at the king with a frown. “You shouldn’t abuse your power like that. When kings start doing whatever they want because they can, it inevitably leads to people becoming unhappy with them. This can be especially bad if the servants start feeling this way, or if enough subjects do. Most kings don’t last very long once it gets to that stage.” Realizing the bluntness of his words he tries to recover, “o-o-or so I’ve heard, your majesty. I’m sure you know that already and know better than me.”

The look on the king’s face is completely neutral, not betraying any emotion. Perhaps thinking he’s upset him, Wendell tries to change the subject. "I see you are in full plate armor. Was there a battle of some kind?"

“Of sorts,” the king says, instantly returning to his former self. “We went out to make a trade deal with the Trivalli. When negotiating, the thing that matters most to them are displays of power. If we had gone out with an army they thought they could defeat, then we would have had little power in the negotiations and an attack would have been likely." The king takes a deep breath. "Thankfully everything went almost perfectly. The worst part was the traveling. It was long and dreadfully hot, especially in this armor." He fans himself with his free hand for added dramatic effect. "Oh! Speaking of, we hope we don't smell too bad, especially since your face is at the same level as my armpit."

“You smell just fine, your majesty,” he says, despite a fairly strong and acrid odor coming from the king.

Without breaking stride, the king takes his arm off of Wendell's shoulder and pushes open a large wooden door. The room is quite plain. Inside there are only some stands for armor and weapons, a wardrobe, a large basket, and some chairs and stools.

“So, what exactly do you want me to do, your majesty?”

"Just help me take off my armor, simple," the king says with a smile.

“I don’t know how.”

“Not to worry, as long as you can undo belts and untie knots, I can guide you through the process. Start by grabbing one of those stools so you can see what you’re doing.”

Wendell goes to grab one of the stools by the wall, picks it up, and sets it down by the king. Once he steps on it, he's just a little bit taller than the king, and can now see the straps and tied cloth that were hidden under the king's chin. It only takes a couple seconds to undo the little buckle and untie the cloth. With nothing holding the helmet on, Wendell lifts the tiger-shaped helmet off. Underneath is a black cloth coif, which he takes off as well.

With everything off his head, King Reuleaux gives his neck a bit of a stretch and his ears a few test wiggles and flicks.

A subtle smirk escapes onto Wendell’s mouth.

“What is it? What’s so funny?” King Reuleaux asks.

“It’s nothing, your majesty. It’s just that your is fur plaster to the side of your head and it makes for quite the sight.”

“I have no doubt that I look like quite a mess, so if you would hurry...”

“I’m sorry your majesty! Here you are suffering and I’m laughing at you. Tell me what to do next.”

“With pleasure.”

Despite not knowing what to do, it doesn't take Wendell long to take off the various parts of armor. Pauldrons, vambraces, chain mail and everything else easily comes off with just a few buckles and knots coming undone.

"There's no need to put the pieces on the stand. They all need to be cleaned, inspected, and so on," says the king after noticing Wendell trying to put some armor on the stand.

“So, is that all or do you need help with those?” Wendell points to the cloth pants and leather jacket.

“No need to worry about these. I’ll remove the arming doublet and hose myself.”

“Am I free to go, your majesty?”

The king quickly responds, “while I have you, can you go run a bath for me in the next room?”

Without saying anything, Wendell turns around and heads through the doorway to the next room.

“Thank you! You’re the best!” the king calls after him.

“I know!” Wendell calls back sheepishly.

This room is even more barren than the one before. The only removable object is a shelf with soaps, brushes, combs and various towels for washing and drying. The bath itself is sunken into the floor and takes up almost the entire room, leaving only some space to walk around the edge. Built into the end of the bath closest to the door is a wooden gate that must act as a drain. On either side of the drain, there is a ledge down inside the bath. The ledge must act as a seat and a way to get in and out of the bath. At the other end are two wooden chutes. At the end of each chute is a chain, and at the end of each chain is a ball; one blue and one red. Figuring the color-coded chutes must be where the water comes from, Wendell heads over.

Pulling down the chain with the red ball causes the chute to unfold, and steaming water begins to flow out into the bath. Once the bath has filled up over a third of the way, Wendell pulls the other chute. Just like the other chute, this one unfolds and a second stream of water begins filling the bath, except this water isn’t steaming. After a few moments of filling, the cold-water chute is released and only the hot water still runs. Wendell stops the hot water once the bath gets to three-quarters full. Steam gently wafts off the water, but a quick test of the water confirms the temperature.

“No need to test. I can tell from here that that water is perfect.”

Looking up at the doorway, Wendell sees the king standing in the doorway; nude. The armor really didn't do him justice. Instead of the typical fat king, King Reuleaux has the body of a blacksmith. His fur does little to hide the amazingly sculpted definition of the huge, lean muscles covering his entire body. The fur itself is just as beautiful as his muscles. One can't help but stop and stare when seeing the bright white and shining gold in its full glory. The stripes circle around his legs and arms, almost giving the impression of gold jewelry. There are a couple of stripes near the top of his huge puffy pecs, which resemble large necklaces, but the majority of stripes cover his abs. The last bit of gold forms a trail down the middle of his body, just below the abs, all the way down to his crotch where it ends in a large tuft of gold. Below that is a sheath that's almost three inches across, and an equally large pair of fuzzy, golden striped balls, which are about the size of limes, if not bigger.

With eyes resting on the king’s large dangling balls, Wendell unconsciously says, “yes, perfect.”

The king clears his throat with a quick “ahem”.

“The water! I do hope the water is perfect for you... your majesty.” Wendell says with a too big smile on his face.

The king says nothing further, and using the underwater ledge steps down into the water. He sits down on the ledge, rests his arms on the side of the bath and tilts his head back.

“This feels fantastic!” he practically roars out. “You did an amazing job. This water is just perfect. I can just feel all the tension and soreness leave my muscles.” He stays in this position without moving for a while, and just when it seems like he might have fallen asleep, the king's head snaps up. "I bet you thought I fell asleep. Well, you'd almost be right, but I guess it's time to actually clean up and get rid of my stink... Not that you seemed to mind." He says the last part with a big smirk on his face.

“Can I have permission to speak freely?”

“All those who serve under me may always speak freely.”

“When I said you didn’t smell bad, well, I lied. I was being polite, but you really do smell quite strongly.”

“Tsk, tsk. You shouldn’t do that. Always tell the truth, but be kind about it. It’s better to be embarrassed in front of a few you know instead of many you don’t or ones who are important.” The king suddenly starts sniffing. “The way you said it though. I’m actually quite hurt.”

With trepidation, Wendell asks the king, “I’m very sorry for having hurt your feelings. Is there anything I can do for you to make up for it?”

“Wash my back please!” the king responds in a cheerful voice with a huge grin that shows off his teeth.

With a sigh, “I do have tasks that I must perform.”

“As I told you earlier, there will be no trouble for you if you help me.”

“As I told you earlier, there still might be trouble for me if you play favorites and that attitude can end up hurting you too."

“I’m aware that there are many important jobs, but none so much that your tardiness would harm me.”

With a heavier sigh, “did you even listen to me?” Then in a quieter voice, “and I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

The large swiveling ears of the king must have heard the last thing Wendell said since his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the statement. Despite the confusion, he doesn't say anything about it and instead says, "would you fault me for enjoying your company so much?” He tilts his head down and stares up at Wendell with his large eyes.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

The king somehow manages to make his face look even cuter.

“...Fine, I’ll wash your back. You big suck.”

A large smirk replaces the adorable look on the tiger’s face.

"But not because of the compliment!"

The king bursts into roar-like laughter as Wendell walks along the edge, making his way closer to him.

“Well come on, get out and place your royal behind up on the edge.”

“I can’t do that. I’m all wet, and while sitting out of the water I could catch a cold. You wouldn’t want me to get sick, would you?”

Another sigh comes from Wendell. “Then how am I supposed to wash your back then?”

“Simple. Just come in the water with me. It’s nice and warm and there’s lots of room.” The king moves off the ledge and sits on the bottom of the bath, with only his head sticking out of the water. He lowers his nose under the surface and starts blowing bubbles.

“Do you act like this with everyone?”

“Nope, just you.”

Wendell is taken aback by the sudden terse response. Regaining his composure, Wendell scoffs at his response and says, “I’m sure you say that to everyone and just want me to get in the bath with you.”

“We swear to you on our name as the Golden One, that we are telling you the truth.”

"Well, I can't argue with that... I guess." Realizing he's lost, Wendell begins stripping. Under the grey cloak are matching grey clothes with the same diamond grid pattern along the edges of each garment. Taking off his shirt reveals his slender hairless body. All of the muscles on his upper body are quite small, but despite the small muscles, a little fat helps keep him from looking unhealthy. Reaching down to take off his pants, Wendell catches sight of the king, who’s staring right at him. “Can you stop staring at me?”

“You got quite the eyeful of me earlier, so I just thought it would be fair if I got to do the same with you.”

Wendell’s cheeks burn red as he looks away in embarrassment. “I don’t know why you would, there isn’t anything worth seeing.”

Despite what he said, the king gives him a smile and continues to look at him.

After a couple seconds, Wendell resumes taking off his pants and underwear. As to be expected, his legs are just a little more muscular from carrying his weight but are just as small as his arms. Unlike his muscles, just underneath a patch of pubic hair is a flaccid seven-inch dick, with a nice pair of balls that would fill a hand nicely. After standing around for a few seconds, Wendell turns around and crouches down to fold his clothes, giving the king a great view of his butt and tight hole. With his clothes in a neat stack, Wendell turns back around and enters the bath, where the king is waiting.

The king floats over to the side of the bath, grabs a glass bottle from the little shelf and hands it over to Wendell. With this job done, King Reuleaux puts his arms on the edge and rests his head on top of them. As Wendell gets closer, King Reuleaux spreads his legs apart giving Wendell a place to stand and reach his back.

Wendell removes the glass stopper from the bottle and pours a little of the clear viscous fluid onto his hand. A slight but sharp earthy smell comes from the liquid once he begins to lather it in his hands. He begins massaging the lather into the fur near the base of his tail but stands as far away as he can to avoid any inappropriate contact. As he washes higher up the king's back, he has no choice but to move closer to reach. Once Wendell has gotten most of the way up King Reuleaux’s back, he has to stop. Any closer and he’ll be rubbing up against him.

“What’s the matter? Why did you stop?”

“I-I-I'm just having some trouble reaching, your majesty.”

“Well if you can’t reach, then just move closer.”

"You could just lower yourself as you did bef..."

“Despite the size of my teeth, I don’t bite... Unless you want me to,” he says with a wink after interrupting Wendell.

After a few moments, Wendell moves closer so that his crotch is now pressing up against the king's butt.

“See? That wasn’t too bad, and now you can continue.” He faces forward again and places his head back on his arms. “You are doing a wonderful job by the way. Those fingers are practically magic with how they... rub out, all the stress and tightness of my muscles.”

Already being in an awkward situation, the king’s innuendos don’t help matters. Wendell continues washing the rest of King Reuleaux’s back, but his dick begins to get harder. To reach his shoulder’s, Wendell hops from the tips of his feet, which cause his dick to rub between the king’s round, muscular butt cheeks. The king certainly notices but doesn't do anything other than rest his head.

“All finished, your majesty,” Wendell says with a full erection.

“That felt soooo great,” the king says while stretching out his back. “Want to do the rest of me?”

The innuendo proves too much, turning Wendell bright red and unable to speak.

“Looks like the heat from the water and all that work you just did is getting to you. How about I wash your back while you relax?”

Despite the king already feeling his hard-on, Wendell doesn’t want to get out of the water and let the king see it. “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. Let’s switch places.”

With their roles reversed, King Reuleaux lathers his hands with soap and begins massaging Wendell’s shoulders. Due to their difference in height, King Reuleaux can leave a space between them and still have no trouble reaching. Strangely enough, the farther down his back, the closer the king gets. It doesn’t take very long before the king’s dick is rubbing against Wendell’s butt. The entire back is covered in lather, but instead of finishing, the king grabs Wendell’s hips.

King Reuleaux leans in and whispers, “do you want me to give you a deep cleaning?” and at the same time pulls Wendell closer, causing his dick to prob between the smaller one’s butt cheeks.

Stuttering and tripping over his words, Wendell says, “we really shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I’m not asking what we should or shouldn’t be doing. I’m asking you what you really want.”

"It's important that a king has an heir. That's not something I can give, so this is pointless," he says still stuttering and embarrassing himself more with what he said.

"I enjoy most of what I do, but in the end, it's still a job. I want to be able to do things just for the sole purpose of enjoyment instead of it having to revolve around some grand purpose,” while he’s saying this, the king slowly softens his iron grip on Wendell’s hips. “I don’t know what it is about you, well I suppose I do, but I’m more interested in you than anyone else I’ve met.” King Reuleaux sighs and then continues, “that’s why I’m willing to let you be my first.”

Wendell turns around and looks him in the eyes, unable to believe what he’s hearing. “Even though you’ve been quite different from most kings, I still find it hard to believe you’re a virgin.”

The king shrugs and gives him a little smirk.

“This makes things even more serious.”

“I won’t go any further, so it’s entirely up to you. As long as you’re being true to your feelings, I’ll accept your decision, whatever it may be.”

Wisely, Wendell takes some time to think but still comes to a decision quickly. “I’ve made my choice. I want...”

Slam! The large wooden door to the armor room flies open, smacking against the wall. From the room comes a stressed voice, “Golden One what are you doing, you must hurry or you’re going to be late!”

Wendell can feel claws digging into his sides and hear a rumbling coming from the king behind him.

“How dare you slam open the door and enter without knocking!” he roars so loudly that the water ripples around him.

The person in the other room spews out apology after apology in a seemingly endless torrent. “Please forgive your humble servant O Illustrious Golden One. I overacted and would normally never behave in such a manner, but the coronation of The Royal Magistar is extremely important.”

Still roaring, but not as loudly, he says, “you think we don’t know this? Is it too much to ask that we relax after such a long and difficult journey and before such a stressful event? We’ve never been late to anything, so leave, and don’t you dare insult me again.” The word “dare” dripping with so much venom that the threat seems quite genuine.

After a little yelp! the person in the other room starts his torrent of apologies again and can be heard through the shut door and down the hall as he practically runs away.

“I’m sorry about that,” the kings says to Wendell.

“No, it’s fine, my hearing was too good anyway.”

“Sorry.” His ears go flat against his head.

“That’s alright. I understand.” He reaches up and rubs the king’s head. “That voice was quite impressive. It was almost like you were a different person.”

“Kings can rarely be themselves and are always having to change their personality depending on who they’re talking to and the situation. It’s exhausting.”

Wendell gives him a sympathetic grin and a few more head rubs. “No wonder you wanted to relax and collect yourself. What is this coronation he was talking about, and why is it so important.”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

“I will?!”

“Let us finish washing and then you will accompany me to the throne room.”

Out of all of the commands so far, this one sounded the least negotiable. “Alright.”

“That’s it? I’m surprised you didn’t say anything about being late to your task or how much it would affect me.”

“Thought I’d give you a break. Just this once.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of you.”

A pause, then they both burst out laughing.

The sexual atmosphere that once permeated through the room is all but gone. They continue washing, although this time it's five feet apart. Wendell is the first to finish bathing since he doesn't have fur to deal with. He leaves the bath and grabs one of the towels on the shelf. He stays in this room to dry, not minding the watchful king. He puts all his clothes back on, but the king is still in the bath.

“I hate to say this, but you should hurry.”

“Not you too!”

“I said that because I worry that your fur will take a long time to dry.”

“You’re correct, that’s why I’ll just focus on parts of me that will be visible. The rest can be damp since no one will be able to tell.”

Wendell thinks for a few seconds. “If you hurry up in there, I’ll help you dry off.”

The king starts scrubbing himself almost comically fast before dunking himself under the water. He emerges by the ledge and steps out, pulling the wooden board out that was keeping the water in. He stands smiling with his arms out, ready to be dried.

“I’ll get the back and you can dry the front.”

“Aren’t you more interested in what I have in the front.”

Perhaps already used to his taunts, Wendell hardly reacts and says, “are you saying you can reach your back?”

“Ah... well...”

“If that’s the case, then I guess I won’t be needed to help you bathe in the future?”

“Back is fine,” he replies quickly.

“Thought so.”

With a dry towel in hand, Wendell begins rubbing down King Reuleaux’s back. He doesn’t spend too much time trying to get it completely dry since it will be covered up anyway. Once the fur looks relatively dry and fluffy, he moves lower down. Once his entire back is dried, Wendell moves onto the tail, which doesn’t take very long since it doesn’t have much hair. Before he continues, he gives the king a warning, “don’t say anything and don’t do anything other than drying yourself off.”

“All right?”

Wendell places the towel on the tiger’s muscular butt cheeks and rubs vigorously. Despite how muscular it is, his butt is quite bouncy, and it seems like Wendell is having some fun kneading the cheeks. “Give me a hand here or maybe two.”

The king catches on quick and places a hand on each of his cheeks and spreads them apart.

With the area being more sensitive and the hair fairly short, Wendell rubs much slower. The area looks dry and that’s good enough as he’s not about to start feeling. He moves down to the back of the king’s legs, but the king still has his cheeks spread so Wendell catches sight of the tiger’s bright pink hole, making him blush. “I’m done. Stop spreading and start drying.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to give it any more attention?” He wiggles his butt a little.

Wendell knocks the king's hands out of the way and grabs onto the butt cheeks himself. Spreading them apart and staring at the tight, puckered hole for only a moment, he buries his face between the round cheeks. With his hands, he rubs and massages the firm glutes. While his hands are busy, Wendell takes a deep breath. He's a little disappointed since all he can smell is the earthy aroma of the soap, but it still smells good. After a few more moments, he quickly removes his face and hands. Having surprised both himself and the king, he tries to play it off by vigorously rubbing the rest of his legs.

Still crouching behind the king, Wendell decides to dry off the front of the king's legs. He's surprised that the king hasn't said anything yet and even more surprised when he gets close to the king's crotch and he still doesn’t say anything. “Well, I guess I’m all done,” he says standing up, his voice a little shaky.

“As am I. Come. Follow me,” he says, but doesn’t give Wendell much of a choice, having grabbed his hand and pulling him along.

“Your paw pads are really soft. I kind of expected them to be tough and leathery,” his voice is still shaky from his earlier actions.

The king doesn’t seem at all phased from Wendell enjoying his butt. "Why thank you. It's good to know those lotions are actually doing something. I'm afraid you'll have to rub them later because right now I do need to get dressed." They come to a stop in front of the wardrobe. King Reuleaux let's go of Wendell’s hand and opens the doors, revealing the clothes hanging inside. Every single article of clothing is a deep black.

“Wow. Decisions, decisions. I wonder what you’re going to pick.”

“Hmm. I think I’ll go with the black shirt, black underwear, black hose, and to spice things up, black shoes.”

“Never would have thought you’d pick those, but an excellent choice.”

The king begins to put on his monochromatic clothes. “Before we head to our final destination, we’ll have to stop at my chamber.” Sensing the look he’s getting from Wendell, he adds, “these clothes aren’t formal enough for such an occasion.”

“Oh, I see.”

“My bed is quite comfy though.” He gives a wink before putting on his shirt.

Wendell gives his biggest sigh yet. “Just lead the way, your majesty.”

2

The castle is like a maze. The walls all seem the same and only change when going up one of the many flights of stairs. After countless twists and turns, and seemingly heading down the same few hallways over and over, the unlikely pair reach a large, ornate set of doors. One is a human clad all in grey, with a cloak covering their entire body. The other is a white tiger clad all in black, who’s stripes shine a brilliant gold. One is a servant and the other is a king, but they open the large doors, together.

Although many things about King Reuleaux are different from most kings, this room is an exception. Everything inside appears to be overly big and with almost too much detail to look at. Everything seems to have either a tiger, sun, or light motif, or some combination. The wood on the walls are covered with depictions of tigers and every corner seemed to have light rays shining from them. On the ceiling way overhead is a giant, inverted glass dome with silvery streaks radiating from it all the way to the walls.

The worst part about this room is the color. While the king is clad entirely in black, the room is entirely white. Even the wood is bone white, which is odd, due to the fact that there aren’t any trees of this color.

"It's a good thing tigers have excellent hearing because you'd probably go blind if you spend too much time in here," Wendell says while making his way over to the room-filling bed. “You were right about the bed though. It is super comfy.” Despite being sprawled out over the bed, he looked like a little child on his parent’s bed.

“Be careful laying on that bed. I’m supposed to be putting clothes on and I just might join you.”

Wendell sits up and sees the king already fully dressed. The black clothes have been replaced with similar black clothes, but these ones have very detailed silver embroidery. Some silver arms bands now sit above his huge biceps and a silver chain holds a heavy looking cape around his shoulders. The cape is, of course, black, but has fluffy silver fur all along the edge. Embroidered on the back is a very detailed profile view of a tiger, and surrounding the tiger are stars which form the night sky above the castle.

“That cape is really beautiful.”

“Thank you. I guess you could consider it a family heirloom.” The king walks over to a table with a box on it, motioning for Wendell to join him. Once at his side, the king slowly opens the box. Inside is a large, but simple black crown. The only detail it has are large spikes that give the impression of teeth. "Now this is a family heirloom. This crown was worn by the very first king, and every king after him.”

“Wow, imagine the stories it could tell if it could speak.” Wendell leans in to get a better look but doesn't dare touch it. Despite its age, the crown looks brand new, with not even a scratch on it. "I know I should probably know better, but I was expecting it to be gold, but it looks like it's the same black material your armor is made of."

"As you could probably tell, I'm not allowed to wear a lot of things, with gold being at the top of the list. Apparently, it would distract from my natural radiance or something." He rolls his eyes at how ridiculous the whole thing is. "A gold crown is just a show of wealth and power, and this black material is actually extremely rare, so it's much more valuable than simple gold." The king puts the crown on his head, completing his look.

“Hey, you look like a real king with the crown on.”

King Reuleaux glares at him, “that’s almost insulting.”

"I just meant that you don't wear really fancy clothes like most kings, so without the crown, you don't king off much of a king vibe." Wendell looks down at his own clothes. "Speaking of fancy clothes. Will mine be okay?"

"Normally I would have nicer things for you to wear, but we really don't have the time to get ones made for you. People will mostly be staring at me, so it's not too big of an issue." The king takes a deep breath. "Well, I guess it's time. Let's head to the throne room and get this over with."

Like before, the king guides Wendell through the maze of hallways, doors, and stairs. The quiet murmuring of a crowd signals they've reached their destination. From between heavy white curtains, they emerge into the throne room.

“Sit on our right, and only after we have sat down,” he whispers quietly to Wendell.

As they get closer to the thrones, more of the room can be seen. The room is massive, large enough to hold an entire village of people, and the ceiling many stories overhead would make anyone feel quite small. The thrones themselves sit high above the floor below, with a grand staircase leading down.

The king takes a seat on the largest throne, while Wendell sits on a small stool beside him. Just as they’re both getting comfortable, a much harder job on the little stool, a loud voice starts speaking, startling Wendell.

“All rise for your king! The Golden and Radiant One, first of his name, born under the light of the Father’s Moon...” The one doing the shouting is Gottfried, the old man from earlier, who seemed to appear from nowhere.

As the titles stretch on, Wendell moves his attention to better inspecting the room. Initially, he thought the room was made of polished stone, but upon closer viewing, it is actually made from white marble. The silver veins running through the stone is quite subtle but really sets it apart from common stone. The main level is completely devoid of anything, except some columns holding up the second story balcony. On the balcony, there is tiered sitting, like that of an amphitheater, and appears to be where all the upper class gets to sit. At the far end of the room, is a massive doorway, whose open doors would require many men to move. Just beyond the doorway is a line of guards, and beyond them is a huge crowd of the lower class. Although they have to stand outside, it looks like everyone who could come, has, just to get the chance of seeing the king.

Having run out of things to look at, Wendell is thankful when Gottfried finally finishes saying all the king’s titles. “Isn’t this room a little big, even by castle standards?”

“This room is mainly used to hold huge feasts and balls, and not the fun kind.” He gives Wendell a sly wink.

Ignoring the tiger, he asks, “how come I have to sit on the tiny stool? Have you ever sat on this? It’s not very comfortable.” He adjusts himself to further prove his point.

“Being able to sit beside us is a great privilege that only a couple others are allowed.” A smirk appears on his face. “If you want, you could take the empty throne reserved for my future wife. It would cause quite a stir so it probably wouldn’t be worth it.”

“Stool is fine,” Wendell says in defeat.

Almost thirty minutes have passed with nothing happening, so King Reuleaux signals to Gottfried. “Does anyone know where he is or how long he’s going to be?”

“The last update I got says he’s in that room and has been in there for quite a while. As you know we can't enter, but I could send someone to check and see if he responds." Being unable to properly serve the king, the look on Gottfried's face is a pained one.

The king pauses and thinks for a moment. “Don’t disturb him. If he’s in that room, then it must be important, whatever he’s doing.”

“To make the king wait, I would certainly hope so.” He shakes his head, unable to believe how someone could act in such a manner. “Although to be honest, I’m not that surprised. I’ve heard some stories about him, and I can't say I’m all that impressed.”

“You ought to be careful what you say. Once all this is done, he’s going to answer only to us. Who knows what he might do to you after such insults?”

Gottfried's eyes go wide and he hurries off without saying a word.

“We’re surprised that you didn’t scold us for that.” With no response, the king looks over to the man beside him. Wendell is slumped over and has somehow managed not to fall over. “Fell asleep? Can’t say we blame you. We wouldn’t mind having a bit of a rest ourselves. Well, we could, but it wouldn’t be for the best. We don’t need to have people whisper the title of ‘Sleepy King’.” Not wanting to show any signs of weakness, the king doesn’t even lean against the arms of his throne and instead continues to sit upright.

Even more time has passed than before. The crowd has gotten quite restless, with their chatter having slowly gotten louder to the point of filling the whole throne room. Normally it takes a few moments to silence a room, especially one with this many people, but without warning, the entire room goes dead silent.

Just as the king registers the sudden strange occurrence, Wendell wakes bolt upright with a pained gasp. “What is it?! What’s happening?!” he asks with panic in his voice.

“You can’t feel that?” Wendell replies weakly

“No, I didn’t notice anything change, other than the silence.”

“It must be your golden ancestry protecting you. It feels like I’m at the bottom of the deepest ocean.” He takes a few ragged breaths. “It’s not a normal pressure like you’d expect. This feels sharp, like countless needle points pressing down.”

“I-Is there anything I can...”

CRACK! A sharp sound like glass cracking reverberates throughout the room.

“What was that?!”

"Look..." Wendel says feebly and points to the doorway at the end of the room.

It doesn't take long for the king to see what he missed in his panic. A large crack has appeared in the wall but continues uninterrupted through the empty space of the doorway.

“I think he’s here,” the king says quietly.

Cracks continue to form, each followed by an almost deafening sound. When enough cracks have formed, entire pieces begin to fall. Even as they fall, they still keep the image they once held, like a painting on glass. When the first piece hits the ground, it instantly shatters, sending shards flying everywhere. As the shards come to a rest, they sink into the floor and a black flower grows and blooms in its place. Behind the holes left by the pieces at the edge is darkness, but when a piece closer to the center falls something light grey is revealed. As more pieces fall, the dark patch of flowers has grown to cover almost half of the floor. With little to support the remains pieces, larger ones begin to fall and more rapidly. The sound is like a glass tower falling over but thankfully doesn't last long. The huge hole reveals what appears to be a moon out in space.

The king has a confused expression on his face. “I recognize the constellations, but not the moon. It looks like the Father’s Moon, but it doesn’t look right.”

“You’re right, it is the Father’s Moon,” Wendell speaks, sounding a little less pained. “The reason you don’t recognize it is because what you’re seeing is the dark side of the moon. No one has ever seen it... until now.”

With wide eyes, the king shifts his view back to the moon.

A shifting river of light pours down from the moon and splashes down on the floor. The light flows like water among the flowers, making them glow from beneath. Almost as if it’s in opposition to the light, a black spot appears at the bottom of the moon. As the spot gets larger, it becomes clear that it’s a dark figure walking down the path of light.

Although the figure is getting closer, the darkness continues to spread on the moon. The light from the moon and path reveals that this darkness is actually a long cloak worn by the figure. The further down the path they walk, the longer their cloak becomes and the more it consumes the moon. Eventually, the entire moon is turned into the black cloak. With nothing holding it up anymore, the cloak gently floats down and drapes itself over the path of light.

The moment the figure steps onto the ground and among the black flowers, the hole behind them beings to fade away. As the castle wall starts to reappear, the light trail holding up the cloak begins to fade. Once the hole has completely vanished, the massive cloak floats down and billows out along the ground. The dark cloth patch behind the figure now matches the one made of flowers in front of him.

The figure spreads his arms out wide with a flourish. “I am Maldeus, who heralds from the Blue Wastes. I am the Grand Magistar Supreme, and the sole guardian of the Ultimus Veneficium Reconditorium." His booming voice fills the entire room and seems to come from every direction. In a slightly quieter voice, "it is a great honor to make your acquaintance, O Golden One." He bows deeply, with his head almost touching the floor.

King Reuleaux raises an eyebrow at the voice. He glances at the stool beside him and finds it empty. With a sly grin on his face, he says, "remove your hood at once. We wish to see the face of the one we’re talking to.”

“Your wish is my command, your majesty,” he says with another bow. He brings his hands up to pull the hood back.

The long cloak splayed out behind him begins to move on its own and spiral around Maldeus. The cloak lifts up, spinning faster and faster. As it spins, it begins picking up flower petals and scattering them all over the throne room. The black tornado of cloth and petals reaches all the way up to the ceiling. The cloth covering the flowers quickly recedes, and as the bottom lists off the ground it takes the flowers with it and vanishes through the ceiling.

The king’s suspicion was correct. Although he looks different, his new retainer stands before him.

Wendell, although he calls himself Maldeus, is now clad in brilliant white and shining gold. His hair has gone silvery white and his eyes are now gold, both matching his clothes.

Instead of the grey cloak from earlier, Maldeus is now wearing a white trench coat with popped lapels. The coat is almost entirely open, revealing a muscular chest with white chest hair and a matching treasure trail. The coat also has his muscular legs exposed, which are covered with translucent white tights. On his feet are white boots that match his coat. A golden sash tied around his lower waist keeps the coat somewhat closed. The ends of the sash hang over his crotch and act like a loincloth since his tights are see-through.

The coat is sleeveless, showing off his bulging biceps. The only thing on his arms are some white gloves that reach up a quarter of his forearms. All the fabric he’s wearing has contrasting white or gold embroidery. The designs seem to be a mix of magical and decorative shapes and patterns.

The only visible piece of jewelry is a golden diadem inlaid with white gems. The gems seem to waver and move as if they were alive and might suddenly vanish.

A few moments of silence go by. Gottfried is the first to speak, “now that introductions have been made, let us begin the coronation.”

Now that the silence has been broken, everyone, both inside and out, begins talking about what they just saw.

“Now if we could have your attention,” the king tries, but the excitement proves too much.

Before he can try again, Maldeus holds his hand up to the king to stop him. Spreading his arms out, he booms, “SILENCE! Your king is speaking!” His voice is loud enough to be heard almost throughout the entire city.

Everyone is silent and doesn't dare make a sound.

King Reuleaux has a grimace on his face, and his ears flat against his head. “My hearing was too good anyway,” he says quietly to himself, but both him and Maldeus smile at each other. He clears his throat. “Have you brought an object on which to make your promise?”

Maldeus bends down and picks the last black flower from between his feet.

“Then you may begin.”

As in an offering, he holds the flower up towards the king. “Through this ancient rite, I hereby pledge my life to you. Through you may pass on to the next world, your descendants will inherit this promise, and with it my soul. Only with my death shall this promise ever be broken. Until my passing, I promise to serve you and your lineage, however you all see fit.” He gently tosses the flower to the king.

The flower slowly floats over the large distance between them. The king reaches out and easily catches it in his large hand. “Through this ancient rite, I hereby accept your pledge. Though we may waver, we will always try our utmost to make proper use of your awesome power. I promise that as long as you live, you will never regret your decision.” The king tosses the flower into the air.

“It is done!” Maldeus booms.

“It is done!” King Reuleaux shouts.

The flower erupts in a bright light that fills the entire throne room. Even those outside have to cover their eyes or look away.

When the light fades, Maldeus is holding onto the flower. “I will find a container suitable for this,” he says only to the king.

Once again Gottfried steps forward. “The coronation has come to an end. All present are welcome to walk the gardens while the feast is prepared.”

Maldeus begins walking toward the king, who in turn stands and smiles at him. As he's walking, he begins to fade and disappears completely before reaching the stairs.

“Find out where he went, we will wait in our chamber until you bring news of his whereabouts.”

“I will do so, but you really should go and make an appearance. There were some unexpected guests, ones who would be saddened if you didn’t show.” This was code for: they showed up to cause trouble and if you don’t show, trouble is exactly what you’ll get.

The king let’s out a big sigh. “You’re right.” He begins the walk to the headache waiting for him in the gardens.

Everyone he sees greets and congratulates him on the new Royal Magister. Over and over he hears what a spectacle it was, and over and over he says how glad he is they could make it and that they enjoyed the coronation. These gatherings are always the same. Say what you must, not what you want and always to the same people. Surround by people who couldn’t care less about him and dragged away from those he considers friends.

Someone places their hands lightly on the king’s shoulders. “You simply must ask your little Magister where he gets his clothes made,” a woman’s voice says quietly into his ear.

A friend. "Lady Galilei, how nice to see you. You are looking as lovely as ever." Before him stands a woman almost as tall as he is. She's wearing a tight-fitting wine-colored dress, which makes it look like she just came from a party. The many golden bangles around her wrist jingle whenever she moves and matches her long blond hair.

“How nice to see you as well. You are looking positively radiant, O Golden One.”

They both laugh at the formalities.

“Oh, dear. Don’t look now, but you’ll never guess who’s coming.”

The king tenses up not wanting to look behind him. “Please don’t leave us with her,” he begs in a whisper.

“Sorry, I’ve got to run!” she says loud enough so others could hear to secure her escape. “Don’t worry, I’ve heard she’s gotten better,” she whispers back.

“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?”

Lady Galilei just smiles coyly and shrugs her shoulder. She begins to walk away, but turns around and says, “I wasn’t kidding about the clothes. My little one would look gorgeous in them.” With a wink, she disappears around a hedge leaving King Reuleaux to his fate.

It seems like the talking will never end, but then Gottfried announces that the feast is ready. The king says his goodbyes and breathes a sigh of relief.

Upon re-entering the throne room, the once empty floor is now filled with tables that stretch from one end to the other. Countless plates piled with food cover the tables and the entire room is lit by just as many candles and torches. Sitting in front of the thrones is an ornate white table that seems to have far too much food for one person. Along with the table, another small throne has been placed on the righthand side of the king's larger throne. Already sitting in the new throne is Maldeus.

The king walks over to his throne and sits down, all the while ignoring Maldeus. “Well, how nice of you to finally join us,” the king says with a little disdain in his voice.

“I never left your side, your majesty.”

The king finally turns to look at him with doubt on his face.

"Tell Lady Galilei that I made these clothes myself and that I'd be happy to make some for her little one," Maldeus says with a bit of a smug look on his face.

“Sorry we doubted you.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, seeing is believing. And as I learned earlier from the bath, if you were hard then I’m sure everyone down there would be able to see.” He looks at the king from the corner of his eye and gives him a sly smile.

The king tries to contain his snickers. “Behave!”

"I'm always on my best behavior. You though..."

The king gives his foot a little kick and Maldeus gives him one back. “We’re surprised you aren’t confused by Galilei. Do you know of her?”

“No, I don't. She doesn't seem like the kind of woman to dress her children in clothes as revealing as this," he gestures at his clothes. "She is the second tallest of everyone here, you being the first. So, I assumed ‘little one' was probably a pet name for her beau."

The king smiles. “We’re impressed. That was some excellent deduction.”

“I think you exaggerate. Most people would have come to a similar conclusion.”

“If you knew the people here as we did, then you'd know we are telling the truth."

"It sounds like it's more of an insult to them, than a compliment to me."

People are still getting themselves seated since some rather chatty individuals are holding up the rest. Still unable to eat, the king leans over to Maldeus, “once all this is done, we would like to speak to you in our chamber.”

“This position has been vacant for quite a while, so I have a lot of work to catch up on. Talking in my chamber would be far more convenient for me.”

The king leans in close enough to tickle Maldeus’ ear and whispers, “our chamber has a nicer bed.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“You took the words right out of our mouth. What are we going to do with you? Would you like to guess?”

“Please behave in front of everyone.” He tries to give him a stern look, but the smile betrays him.

“We’re keeping our hands to ourselves, so we think we’re doing pretty well.”

“I don’t know if that’s something to be proud of, but at least it’s something, I guess.”

The king gives him a big toothy grin and Maldeus can’t help but smile too.

“Stop fooling around and start eating so everyone else can start... and so they can stop staring,” he says the last few words under his breath.

King Reuleaux stands and lifts a goblet in the air, and everyone else does the same. He brings the goblet to his mouth and downs the entire thing. Only a few people empty their glass, the others just take a sip and begin eating.

The quiet sounds of people eating fill the air but soon becomes a little louder as more alcohol is consumed. With many people are already done eating, dessert is quickly brought out by a procession of servants.

The king, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be stopping any time soon. Most of the food on the table has already been eaten and the pitcher of wine has already been filled up a few times. He looks over to Maldeus, who is just sipping on a glass of water. “You’re not done already are you?!” he says a little too loudly.

"Yes, I am. I'll have to tell the cooks they did an excellent job. That chocolate crème brûlée was especially delicious.” He takes another sip of water before continuing. “Frankly, I’m the one who should be shocked that you’re still eating, even though you are larger than me.”

“Well, if you’re done you can leave if you want.” The king doesn’t hide the sadness in his voice very well.

“I’ll stay.”

“You really like our company that much?”

“I want to make sure that if you drink too much, you won’t become a problem.”

“Oh, you really do care.” The king bumps shoulders with Maldeus.

“It is my duty to care.”

The king scowls and stuffs more food in his mouth.

After quite some time goes by, Maldeus calls Gottfried over. “Do you mind if I say a few words to the people?”

“No, not at all. Go right ahead.”

Maldeus stands and claps his hands together, which reverberates through the room. With everyone now staring at him, he speaks, “I’d like to thank you all for coming. It means the world to the Golden One and me. Please eat and drink your fill, but I’m afraid the king must retire for the night. He’s had a little too much to drink, and I fear his plate may soon become his pillow.”

Laughter fills the room, although most people are only laughing out of courtesy or drunkenness. The king, who almost has his head on the empty throne’s seat, hardy stirs at the sound.

“I bid you all a safe and good night,” Maldeus finishes with a bow and his hands spread out before him. He brings his hands together and giant floor to ceiling curtains appear from the walls.

It only takes a few seconds for the upper level to be completely blocked from view. From behind the curtains is genuine applause. The curtains act as a window to the outside, showing a view of the night sky that only a few with large telescopes can see.

Maldeus turns to the dozing king. “Now, let’s get you to bed.”

"Do you require any assistance?" Gottfried asks.

Maldeus just gives him a bit of a smirk.

“Right. Of course you don’t.”

“Thank you anyway. The thought is very much appreciated, and don’t worry, there will be many times I will call upon you for help.” He gives Gottfried a smile, who surprisingly gives him one back. “Since the king can’t say it right now, I will. Thank you for all your hard work and make sure you get a good night's rest.”

“Thank you, and you as well. Welcome to the family.”

Maldeus gives him another smile and a nod.

With the wave of a hand, the large table floats up and away, allowing access to the king. Maldeus puts his hand on the king’s chest and effortlessly lifts him off the throne. The table floats back down once they are clear of the area, and Maldeus pushes the king over so he’s laying down, but still floating in the air. With his hand still on the king’s chest, Maldeus begins walking and the king following beside him.

Despite having only walked this path once, and in the opposite direction, Maldeus find his way to the king’s chamber without fault. Once inside, a wave of the hand has the covers on the bed pulled back neatly in preparation for the king. He brings his hands together over the king and then pulls them away. Everything the king is wearing slides off his body and finds its proper resting place. He takes the king over to his bed and tucks him in, sitting on the edge.

“Well, you got me in your chamber and on your bed no less. What are you going to do with me?”

Soft snoring is the only sound the king makes.

“I thought as much.” He gives King Reuleaux a goodnight kiss on the forehead. Before leaving he places something on the table next to the crown box. The object is the black flower on which they made their promises. The flower is now planted in a stylized version of the king's crown and is made of the same rare black metal.