When Burrito was a young boy, his mother Sapphire was distraught and unsure how to proceed. She tried her best to raise him but, in the end, the pain of knowing the love of her life had played a cruel trick on her and had been controlling every aspect of her life morphed her mind. Sapphire felt the mental snap coming on, and in her last sane moments, she sent Burrito far away and chained herself to the little wooden shack they had been living in.
She knew that one day, the structure would rot, and the chains would break loose. She hoped he’d be a well-adjusted adult by that time, and perhaps have a cure for her mental disease. She settled in and awaited his return, imagining him as a grown man, presenting the family tormenter’s head on a platter.
Luna waited for what felt like ages in the foyer of the palace. She was requesting counsel with the “King” of Platt to ask why he would do such a terrible thing to his own son. A well-dressed man glided around the corner with all of the grace and grandeur of a king, but his form did not match. He was far too short, a measly six foot, tan and somewhat muscular. These features certainly were not fit for someone with the status of King of the Gods.
His over-confident gaze gave way to a softer one, but she knew better. It was all an act, a mask of masks to hid his wickedness from those who served him. The once courageous and charismatic staffers of the palace had been reduced to mindless drones, with no opportunity for input. They barely spoke above a whisper and appeared as sickly hollows of their former selves. They slaved about the elaborate structure in mere rags, and never took a rest. It was such an undignified way for the ancient race to be treated.
Luna glared at him. “We need to talk.” “Of course, darling, that’s why we’re here.” He extended his arm to her and- reluctantly- she took it.
He led her down a long corridor so pristine it was as if nobody lived in the palace at all. He’d somehow managed to drain the life from even the walls, creating a sameness so bland, the only possible focus would be him. After an eternal silence, a soft whisper of piano music caught Luna’s ear, and she could hardly contain her delight. He gave a slight flick of the wrist and the door swung wide, giving way to a highly lit chamber of merriment. To her amazement, everyone inside was a Plattian Noble, dressed gayly and engaged in dancing so graceful, nature itself could not recreate the movements. The beautiful men and women were seven and eight feet tall, with skin of porcelain, cedar, and brass, and eyes of sapphire, emeralds, and rubies.
Floating in the air were tiny specks of gold as if it were pollen in the warm breeze of late spring or the first snowfall of winter. It accumulated at the corners of the room and stuck to everyone’s hair and skin, glimmering in the soft yellow lighting. One of the women caught a glimpse of Luna and stumbled. Ghastly screams tore through the crowd as the light dimmed and went out. The wind burst open the shutters and chilled Luna to the bone.
All of the guests were slowly wasting away into emaciated corpses and fell at her feet. The only light came from Nathaniel, who was glowing a brilliant blue and baring his teeth at her. Calmly, Luna surrounded herself with her own blue light, that of her shield, wielding a golden chain whip. But before she could use the whip, Nathaniel burst through her shield with ease and grasped her wrist firmly, staring at her hungrily. “What do you want?!” His voice was oddly soothing. “I want you to raise my son to be a great warrior. Make him hate me, make him see that I am his ultimate enemy. I want him to thirst for my blood. I want him to feel like his only purpose in life is reclaiming the throne from me.”
He let go and took a step back. “Why would I do that?” Luna fought with all her might to stay strong and not to give into his lies, the pain in his eyes was mere deceit. “You have to. I have made it so.” He turned and walked away, disappearing into the labyrinth of corridors, leaving Luna alone in the dark.