Chapter 1:  Figments of Emotion
 
 
 

"Do you understand me, Mrs. Jonathan?"

"Yes, sir.  Of course, sir.  Oh, and I'm a guy, sir."

Mrs. Jonathon anxiously wiped some sweat off his brow, hoping he didn't make a mistake, as he confronted the patriarch of Two River's Third Estate.  The patriarch's eyes were deceptively calm and tranquil, his face seemingly displaying youth and anxiety, and his clean cut light blond hair giving off a radiant aura instead of an intimidating one, yet Mrs. Jonathan knew that it was all just a farce.  Within that persona lied the plotting and scheming of one of the greatest and most powerful dictators in Two River's history.  Mrs. Jonathan prayed that his correction of the great patriarch didn't incite any anger, or he was doomed.

"Fear, Mr. Jonathan."

"W... what, Sir Makai?"

He knew he wasn't out of the fire, yet.  And that damn winger standing next to Makai kept staring at him, ready to strike and kill poor Jonathan at the moment Makai so much as gave her a wink.  Oh sure, she looked pretty enough... for a winger, since she had long combed light brown hair instead of the dirt-ridden shagginess that most wingers had and deserved, but despite that white dress, her red spear and deathly black wings easily gave away the abilities of death and murder that she was so famous for.

Makai put his hand to his chin.  "Do you know what fear is, Mr. Jonathan?"

"Y... Yes, sir.  I have many experiences with fear.  In fact, I believe I had one just very recently."

Very very recently.  So recent that it was still happening at that very moment.

"Mr. Jonathan, fear is a powerful emotion.  If you have the power of fear, you can bend others to your will.  It is better to be feared than to be loved.  Do you believe you have the power of fear, Mr. Jonathan?"

"Y... Yes, Makai."  Jonathan stuttered.  "When it comes to fear, no one does it better than the people of my section."

"You obviously are not utilizing it enough, Mr. Jonathan.  I hear that HE has managed to start a winger uprising in your section.  It does not make me happy to have usurpers in our nation, and it especially does not make me happy to know that HE has been allowed to strike again.  Do you understand that, Mr. Jonathan?"

"I apologize, sir!  I swear by my name that we will put down all the wingers with all the fear that we can muster!"

"You are not mustering up enough, Mr. Jonathan!  You must learn to fear!"

"Yes, Makai!  We shall learn to fear!"

"Learning to fear is not fast enough, Mr. Jonathan!  I want the fear, NOW!  DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, MR. JONATHAN?!?"

"YES!  We will fear!"

"Fear!"

"FEAR!!!!!!!"

Silence.

Was Makai angry at him?  Was he dissatisfied with Mr. Jonathan's handling of the situation?  Jonathan didn't know what to say.  Makai was staring in thought again.  Makai knew what he was thinking...

I know what you're thinking, Mr. Jonathan.

Meow meow meow meow   meow meow meow meow   meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow...

Oh crap.  The winger was looking at Makai from the corner of her eyes.  She was obviously waiting for Makai to give the order for her to deliver the killing blow.

The winger stomped her spear handle on the ground.  Mr. Jonathan screamed and nearly had a heart attack.  He quickly ducked down, hoping that his death would occur quickly without pain.

"Eh?"  Makai looked around.  He obviously must have felt something happening at that very moment.  Makai's intuition was legendary, known to even equal that of a woman's intuition, which would make sense, since it was common knowledge that Makai wasn't exactly a very "manly" man to begin with.  It must have been something extremely disturbing, for when Makai returned his attention to Jonathan, he still had a look of perplexion in his face until he finally spoke again.  "You realize that when we were going over the meaning of fear, it's THEM that must learn to fear and not you, right?"

Was that what they were talking about?  Jonathan didn't want to take the risk of correcting Makai again.  "Er, yes, of course, Sir Makai.  We shall put fear into those foolish wingers' hearts.  I believe a spectacle of some of the rebels' captives being thrown to the kobolds shall be enough to make them recall their place in society."

"Excellent, Mr. Jonathan.  And I want results.  You may leave, now."

Jonathan quickly exitted the grand hall with a quick bow, glad to be leaving the meeting with his life.  He wisely decided not to inform Makai that his name was Donald, not Jonathan.
 

***
 

"You're falling behind in your court etiquette again."  Lenya muttered as she and Makai walked down the hall.

So that didn't go over very well.  Did it matter?  Mr. Jonas got the point anyway, and there was nothing he could do about it.

She reached back and brushed off one of her graceful white wings, the illusion of the deathly wings of hell now gone.  "I know the reason why.  HE's been getting to you again."

It was bad enough that they couldn't even make up a name to call HIM by.  The argument was that it would give a name for the wingers to identify with.  A name for those inferior freak demi-humans to unite behind.  It didn't really matter.  Most of the wingers knew their place.  Most of them accepted the hand that destiny dealt them in society.  Most of them knew that without the humans, they were nothing.  And most of them knew that to attempt to go against their safety would lead to only death.

"You shouldn't worry so much."  Lenya glanced over at the somewhat sulking Makai.  "No one is even sure if HE exists."

Most was not enough.  Because the small minority of upstarts who tried to fight against the status quo that has kept Two River successful for generations now continue to keep Two River from being the greatest city it could be.  They continue to ruin everything, to commit acts of terrorism which destroy the very structures that the rest of their winger brethren worked so hard to build, forcing the rest of the wingers to rebuild it again.  The production which is lost to their rebellion is production which the rest of the majority must make up.

How could he stop worrying?  Everything else was so perfect.  Two River was more successful than it had ever been in years.  Living standards were so high that even many of the kobolds lived lives comparable to humans of the past.  (Well, at least the smart ones did.  Those short little buggers were nothing more than simple beasts and thus weren't entitled to anything beyond the needed bowl of food, water, and a cage).  Makai's rule came to Two River as a divine gift.  Everything was supposed to be perfect!  But HE, that damn winger that many of those stupid bats continued to view as their savior, continued to be a blemish in the otherwise awesome perfection of Two River!

And no one knew if he even exists.  HE could be a child's tale, made up by that small minority of upstarts just to give them hope for a better life when they didn't deserve it.  Was this legend just a fabricated lie?  Just a simple fairy tale designed to stress him out?  Makai didn't like stress.  Granted, there were lots of things which would cause him to just want to curl up and hide, but stress was constant and caused much more damage over time than your local big ugly cockroach.

"Does he exist?"  Makai asked to the angel walking besides him.  "You know the truth about these things.  You know the truth about everything.  Am I honestly worrying myself over nothing?"

For a brief moment, Lenya didn't answer.  For a mere fraction of time, she had a look of puzzlement on her face, which she never had before.  For a split second which was practically nonexistant in the vast scheme of history, Makai felt a complete void of confidence and insurance which had been filled since the angel came from the heavens above to save him long ago.

Fortunately, that teeny tiny puny extremely small microscopic instant vanished as Lenya smiled and put her arm around the worried patriarch.  "He doesn't exist.  HE is merely the fear you have in the back of your mind.  Don't worry about it.  You know that you have fate on your side.  Destiny has smiled upon you, and nothing can stop it."

Makai breathed a sigh of relief, then resumed making his plans for the rest of the day.  With HIM out of the way, it was finally time to take a short break and enjoy himself.  Perhaps he could visit the coloseuem.  He heard that there was a really exciting match up set there between six winger gladiators and three of the most fearful kobold beasts ever bred and raised for arena battle.  Or he could go back and oversea the construction of the Bellsonium museum.  While those stupid wingers and their hideous demonic black wings weren't very beautiful in their own right, watching their speed of flight combined with their determination to get the job done, lest they die as punishment, was, to say the least, artistic, if a bit in a sadistic manner.  Maybe he could take a walk through the upper Kobold district, to see the advancements that the taller kobolds managed to make over their shaggy smaller brethren, a true testamount to hard work and achievement for a race which, while still inferior to pure humans, could still hold their own above all the other mere animalistic, savage, and intellectually worthless ones.

There is a definitive method by which history runs.  Fate works in mysterious ways.  It had been years since the 1989th Patriarch of Two River had achieved power and transformed Two River into a brave new world.  But it was only the beginning.  With the overall superiority of the humans of Two River, backed by the labor of the cursed-hellspawn dim-witted but productive wingers and the might and intellect of the inferior and superior kobolds, respectively, Two River was invincible, and would become a city-state that the nation of Jowston could truly be proud of.  And, of course, for this juggernaut, fate has decreed that the one at the helm leading it to glory would be no other than Lord Makai, himself.