First Meeting

It had been two years since the birth of Aurora, daughter to King Stefan and Queen Leah. Two years since the mysterious disappearance of the little princess...

Mysterious... There was nothing mysterious about Princess Aurora's disappearance! Mere weeks had passed after the christening ceremony; King Stefan had ordered every spinning wheel in the kingdom be destroyed to protect the princess from the curse that had been bestowed upon her; and it was after this that the infant vanished? Clearly this was planned out; and there was not a trace of doubt in Maleficent's mind that the three fairies had their hands involved in this plot. They would do anything to thwart Maleficent's plan; it was typical of those stooges.

And so, the evil sorceress sent forth her minions; Fiendish ghouls and goblins issued forth from the Forbidden Mountain, searching to find the infant princess, and take her away from the watchful eyes of the three good fairies. Maleficent was not one to be so easily outwitted, and she would gladly remind Flora, Fauna and Merryweather, that they could not outsmart the Mistress of all Evil. The curse would be fulfilled; she would see to it.

Two years had passed since the princess was taken away, and the dark fairy was... To put it simply, bored. And while it was amusing to watch the turmoil Stefan had created when he had ordered the burning of every spinning wheel in the kingdom, it was only a matter of time before the kingdom recovered. Two years had passed, and she had heard nothing of the child's whereabouts. There was plenty of time before the princess' sixteenth birthday; but what could she do to pass such time?

During the past few weeks, the dark fairy was... To put it simply, bored. The kingdom had since recovered from the turmoil King Stefan had brought upon himself when he had ordered that all spinning wheels were to be destroyed. Things had become relatively peaceful as of late, much to Maleficent's disgust. A perfect day to find and make someones day absolutely miserable; only, she felt completely and utterly uninspired.

The sound of feathered wings beating against the air brought her forth from her thoughts; a raven flew down, perching itself upon the arm of the stone throne the sorceress sat upon, calling softly for her attention. She reached her hand out, gently caressing the corvids' head. Diablo was the only real companion Maleficent ever had. Yes, she commanded an army of fiends and monsters, but they were stupid; incompetent. She admired them for their nasty nature; but aside from that, they were unintelligent. They were below her, and were hardly worth her time. But Diablo, her faithful familiar, was the only thing she truly felt a connection toward. The raven was the only thing she could truly converse with; and though he was unable to communicate like she could, she knew he could understand her. Now, he could tell that the dark fairy was weary. He cawed, drawing the attention of the dark fairy once more. She looked to her loyal pet, and smiled.

"Their foolishness knows no bounds," Maleficent mused to her pet. "Time and time again, they've tried to thwart my plans; but each time has met in failure for them... But they've eluded me for two years! Far longer than I had anticipated."

The raven stretched it's wings, before inching closer to the fairy for more attention. Maleficent sighed, slowly running her finger down the raven's neck, before she continued expressing her thoughts: "I am tired. I have not had a good rest for some time, and I have become weary... It boggles my mind how they could have slipt from my vision, and remain undetected for so long."

She was met with another caw, and she smiled once more. Perhaps another attempt to find them was in order?

Taking her staff, she circled her fingers around the orb and watched the images form from within the circular sphere... What she saw was not at all what she expected, and left her in a state of surprise.

A burning village! Now my curiosity is peaked.

Intrigued, Maleficent watched the visions unfold before her: wild, burly men terrorized townsfolk, setting fire to their homes and taking whatever valuables they possessed. But what caught Maleficent's eye most of all was their leader: A tall figure, mounted upon a ghastly steed that looked quite like a cadaverous horse. The figure itself was clad in maroon robes; black iron covered his arms and legs. A red hood concealed this dark warrior's face in shadow, obscuring him from all. But what stuck out the most - and quite literally at that - were the horns that protruded from the figure's head, tearing through the hood of it's robes.

"My pet, it would seem as though I've discovered someone of interest," Maleficent started, her dark smirk returning to her face once more.

The Huntsmen returned from their raid, drawing carts loaded with plunder and loot, as well as... Other things, over a bridge that led to an ancient castle, ruined and corrupted beyond it's former glory over the grueling course of time. An evil lord made his residence there now; a creature that was neither man, nor beast.

This strange creature had roamed the land for more than two-thousand years, and was known far-and-wide, feared by the people of the mystic land of Prydain. No one knew his name; no one knew if he ever had a name... By the people of Prydain, and the men that followed him, he was known only as the Horned King.

While the men busied themselves with food and drink, celebrating another successful raid, the Horned King chose to venture elsewhere. Everywhere he walked, a chilling breeze followed. Just as all living things would cower before him, fire itself seemed intimidated by his very presence, as the flames from the various torches lining the walls would weaken as he passed. He was seldom seen outside of his chambers, or the castle catacombs.

A foul odor emanated from the castle depths. Large carts were drawn to the catacombs, where piles upon piles of skeletal remains were kept. More would be brought; the dead on the battlefield were collected; graves would be robbed of the deceased, and brought here. Hundreds - Thousands of warriors over the course of centuries. The catacombs were a megalopolis for rats. The Huntsmen would seldom venture into the catacombs, for risk of catching disease; those who do would be left behind, locked away within the catacombs to rot, eaten away by the pests that made their living there.

The Horned King was amassing an army - an army the likes of which no man had ever seen in more than two-thousand years, nor would hope to ever see again. But he had no power to re-awaken the dead. Not by himself at least. For many long years, he had been searching for an artifact called the Black Cauldron. Tales and legends say that whoever possessed the Black Cauldron would have the power to resurrect an army of deathless warriors.

No one has found the cauldron yet. The Horned King was determined to be the first, but the question that was always on his mind was whether or not the stories were true? The legend has has faded over the course of time, and fewer people know of the Black Cauldron. Better the chances for him finding it; but again he asks himself: Was he pursuing a myth?

As he stood surveying his mountains of cadavers, he noticed something different... There was a change in the air. Someone was in the catacombs with him.

"I know you're there," the Horned King started, scanning his surroundings. "Reveal yourself."

"... My sincerest of apologies for my intrusion," came a response. It was a woman's voice; very calm, but also commanding. Through her voice alone, the Horned King could tell that this woman, whomever she was, was quite powerful. A queen perhaps; maybe even a sorceress. And so, she stepped forth from the shadows, and bowed her head. "Word had reached my ear of a horned man leading a group of barbarians, burning down towns and villages. Intrigued, I decided to investigate and see if the gossip was true."

"Is that so?" The Horned King started, surveying his visitor. Truly, she had a queenly quality to her. She was clad in an extravagant robe of black and purple; a horned headdress atop her head; upon her shoulder was perched a raven. From the honeydew color of her skin, he could tell that she was no woman. "Well, here you are now, and what you've heard is quite true... Judging by your garb, and the fact you managed to find your way here without the knowledge of me or my huntsman, I am assuming you are one with magical powers?"

"Quite so," said the woman, smiling. "I am Maleficent."

"Maleficent," the Horned King repeated.

"What is your name?" Asked Maleficent, stepping closer toward the Horned King.

"I am the Horned King," the Horned King answered, moving away. Maleficent stayed her ground as he recoiled from her, never once taking her gaze from the horned figure; and he in turn never took his eyes from her.

"Forgive me, I have no desire to make you uncomfortable."

"Why are you here?" Asked the Horned King.

"I already told you," Maleficent started. "I had caught word of a horned rider, leading a group of men on raids-"

"Enough," the Horned King interrupted. "There has to be more to it than mere curiosity. Why did you come? Is it something you seek?"

A silence fell between the two, their gazes fixed upon one-another for some moments before at last, Maleficent spoke: "Your majesty, I seek nothing from you. What I say is true; but if you wish that I take my leave, then I shall leave."

The Horned King was silent... He was leery, especially toward one with a great deal of magic; but it would seem that what Maleficent said was quite true. And so, he clasped his hands, and stepped forward.

"Maleficent," he repeated once more, his voice cold and almost devoid of emotion. "I do not recall ever hearing of such a name."

"I would expect not," she answered. "I hail from a land far from here... What do they call this place?"

"Prydain," said the Horned King.

"Prydain," she repeated. Maleficent kept her gaze upon him, peering into the shadow that concealed his face, but unable to discern what was hidden beneath his hood. Seeing her curiosity, he moved his head so that at last, part of his face was illuminated, revealing a skeletal visage to the sorceress.

"You are a lich!" Maleficent marveled, stepping closer to investigate... Often times, whenever the Horned King's face was revealed, most would gasp in fear or recoil in disgust. Not so with Maleficent. She showed great interest, and even smiled. Something the Horned King was quite unaccustomed to.

"You have a fascination for black magic, or things relating to the dark arts," the Horned King mused aloud.

"Indeed! You could say I am one of it's greatest practitioners," Maleficent responded. "I've read much about liches and the undead, but I've never seen such entities up close before."

"A first, is it? I can tell by the way you're examining me with such a close proximity that you are quite excited."

Seeing that the Horned King was right, and that she was standing quite close, Maleficent took a step back. "Indeed I am... My apologies for such behavior."

"Think nothing of it," said the Horned King. "I must admit, you're more tolerable than those who serve me."

"Incompetent?"

"Quite so... But not only that, but living."

"Living? Oh, I see..." She looked around, motioning her hand to their surroundings. "You seek to resurrect them?" She asked, regarding the thousands of corpses around them. The Horned King was silent, taking another step back in addition to turning his back to Maleficent. "Very well," she started once again, "I will ask nothing further... In any case, I'm sure I've overstayed my welcome, so I shall take my leave... I wish you the best of luck in your quest, your majesty."

Maleficent bowed to the Horned King, before turning away. When the Horned King turned his head, Maleficent was nowhere to be seen...