In another kingdom, another time, there was a world where darkness was not the same. Where light had other meaning. A world where poison was not what killed you, but what the poison made you do that took your life. Dragons, ogres, centaurs, fairies, elves and trolls lived in a world that few knew existed. Aside from the fairies, most of those were wise to stay away from. Elves were the only ones who had a problem with . . . .

"Fairies! I hate fairies!" Mutt picked it up by its wings. "Yep, it's dead." He dropped the sprite and stepped on her. "We'll giver her a decent burial," he joked.

Runt giggled slightly. Mutt sat down beside him and took away his apple.

"What's the matter, me weakling brother? Too sick t' eat?"

"What's wrong with fairies, Mutt?" Runt asked. "Why don't you like them?"

"Have ye never heard tell of the Fairie Plague?"

"Nay, brother, what is that?"

"It's when you get bitten by a fairie, and they poison men's souls to where they go mad. Fairie slobber thickens men's blood."

"I'm not believin' it. Sounds like a bunch of elf-myth."

"Believe what ye will," Mutt said, leaning back against the tree and chewing on the apple, "but hear me, brother . . . the only way to clean fairie drool from elf blood is to drain the elf blood! Otherwise, it spreads among the body like a plague. There bein', we being honorable elves, must destroy all fairies encountered."

"Why are you so violent, Mutt?"

"Violent? If you think I'm so violent, why did ya come with me? Don't you know what we're doing, why we're here?"

"Aye," Runt replied sullenly. "I don't know why I let you talk me into this. So, what's the plan?"

Mutt looked at the ground in thought. Then he grabbed a stick and drew a makeshift castle in the dirt in front of him.

* * *

Hours later, night had fallen. They had managed to squeeze through the castle gates. It was handy being an elf. It was easy to slip out of a tight spot and just as easy to slip into a good spot, like now. Defense was easy, being small and quick rather than big and slow. Also, the smaller one was, the less likely they were to be shot. Even the best archers couldn't hit an elf, whereas a good elven archer could hit any animal in the forest, except fairies, of course.

Against the castle wall, they slid around to the back where they found the lowest window. Runt cupped his hands for Mutt to step in, which he did. Runt lifted him up to the window, but he just kept going and was eventually out of Runt's hands. Runt looked up and figured that Mutt had decided it was clear and had gone into the window.

Runt backed up against the wall and looked around as he waited. It was dark but there was a sliver of light from the full moon through the trees. He was nervous. It was known throughout the kingdom that the castle was lightly guarded, but they were the first to try to break in. It would be quite a layer on their tower of reputation to rob the king's jewels right out from under his nose. But he was still nervous. If one guard found them and shouted they would have a hard time fighting their way back out, and with nothing to show for it.

They had done this type of thing before, many times, always narrowly escaping, but never on this level. It always scared Runt, but this was different. It wasn't that this was the king's castle; no he figured they would make it out of this, again narrowly. But he sensed that they shouldn't be there. He sensed a small warm feeling of Death and Evil. He had felt it all day.

The rope touched his head. Runt snapped out of his thoughts and looked up. Mutt, above, motioned for him to climb. Runt grabbed the rope and scaled up to the window, where Mutt grabbed his arm and pulled him in, then pulled up the rope.

Runt looked around. It was a beautiful room, but not the king's. "It must be the guest room or a servant's room," he mumbled.

Out in the hallway, after making sure it was clear, they scurried around until they found the king's room. There were jewels laid out on the dresser for the queen, and many objects throughout the room shined of well-polished gold. The room almost glowed with light illuminated from the bed, dresser and nightstand. The room was brightly decorated with gold, emeralds, diamonds, rubies and sapphires. The king was not in his room. The crown was sitting on a stand in the corner of the vast suite. The king only wore the crown outside the castle. It was very heavy and uncomfortable and, therefore, unnecessary inside the castle.

Mutt tossed an empty bag at Runt and said, "Start stuffing."

* * *

With stuffed bags almost half their own size, Runt and Mutt cautiously worked their way back to the servant's room where they had entered.

Runt opened the door, entered and stopped. He didn't even hear Mutt close the door. The man was half-dressed sitting on the bed. He looked up and saw them and screamed, "ELVES!" Mutt dropped his bag, pulled his bow and laid an arrow through the base of the man's neck stopping his screaming.

Even as the man fell back on his bed, Mutt and Runt threw their bags out the window and jumped after them. Nothing had stirred in the yard yet. They started running back around the castle toward the gate, the weight of the bags slowing them down.

Fifty feet from the gate they stopped. The line of soldiers covered the gate. None had any type of armor. They carried only their swords.

Mutt laughed and casually said, "They must not think that we'll be a problem. They're not even wearing armor."

Runt looked up at him as if to say, You're crazy!

Mutt smiled at him and said, "Let's take 'em!"

The battle had begun too fast for Runt, who had killed three soldiers before he realized what he was doing. When did, he paused in shock and then darted for the gate. Then he heard Mutt yelling for him. Runt turned around, sheathed his short sword, pulled his bow and laid three straight arrows through two chests and one forehead. Mutt had killed four more and the two that were left stood shocked at the dead that lay at their feet. Mutt ran for the gate as two other arrows passed him and two other soldiers fell. Leaving their bags behind, they slipped through the gates and ran back to the woods. It was over, for the moment.

* * *

They paused in rocks in the woods. Once he regained his breath, Mutt spoke. "Well, me weakling brother, how did that feel?"

"I can't believe I did that," Runt mumbled.

"You should've seen yourself, a real pro. If only you could've seen your face as your sword sliced through that man's gut." Mutt swung his arms wildly, imitating the actions.

"I think I'm going to be sick."

"And the archery," Mutt continued, ignoring him. "Why did you do that? I'm surprised you didn't hit me. That wasn't you, Runt. I don't know who that was back there, but I want to see more of that; I like it! We didn't get the jewels, but . . ."

"We escaped with our lives," Runt interrupted. "Isn't that enough?"

Mutt smacked his own face and said "Ow!"

Runt said, "What's your problem?"

"Something bit me," Mutt said. "I think it was a fairie. The bug sized girl flew up to Mutt's face, smiled and smacked his nose. "That damn nix bit me!"

"She smacked you, too," Runt laughed.

"That was your last move, nix. Show yourself and die like the tramp ye are. Where are ye?"

Runt stood up slowly, smile gone from his face, and pointed behind Mutt. "I think one of them might be her."

Mutt turned around and stared straight at a swarm of fairies hovering in front of him. The fairie that smacked him flew in front of his face again and spoke, constantly smiling.

"What did you call me? Did you call me a tramp? Do you want to say it again or just kill me?"

"Tramp!" Mutt drew his sword and sliced the fairie in half. The swarm attacked. Runt drew his sword and jumped in front of Mutt. Fairies fell as Runt's sword sliced through the air wildly. The swarm turned to Runt, but he couldn't fight them all off. The fairie bites were too much. Runt grew weak, and soon, everything grew dark.

* * *

Runt jumped almost high enough to grab the branch of the tree he was under. The nightmare woke him in the middle of the morning, it seemed.

"Well, the hero has finally arrived. It's about time ya woke up," Mutt called as he jumped off the rock he was sitting on. He threw his apple at Runt, busting him in the head. "You idiot!" Mutt yelled. "Why the hell did you do that? I thought you were dead, you moron. You never jump into another man's fight." Runt stared blankly at him. Mutt could do nothing but laugh as Runt did nothing but stare. "But I'm glad ye did, brother! I swear I've never seen such determination in the way you just jumped in front of me and ripped that swarm apart."

"What happened?" Runt asked.

"Ya passed out."

"I know," Runt growled. "What happened after that?"

"They stopped attacking and left. They didn't even look at me and they didn't worry about their dead. I checked you and you were just barely breathing, but when I turned around the dead fairies were gone. They just disappeared."

"Dead things don't just disappear!" Runt screamed, hurting his head.

"Why are you mad at me for disappearing fairies?"

Runt calmed down and, not knowing, himself, why he yelled , said, "I'm not. I'm sorry. They just disappeared, huh? Everything?"

"Not everything. I found this." Mutt held out a small gold stick, no longer than the width of his hand. "It looks like a really small staff. You see the emerald at the end? I think it's worth a lot."

Runt's eyes grew when he saw the staff. "That thing's worth a loss," he whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"That's the Fairie King's staff. No other species is supposed to touch it. It's cursed. Whoever touches it will die."

Mutt quickly threw the staff into a bush.

"OUCH!"

"What did you do?" Runt asked.

"Nothing," Mutt responded, drawing his sword. "I think it came from that bush."

Runt followed. "Come out," he called.

Slowly a tall figure stepped out ofthe shadows.

"It looks like an ogre," Mutt commented.

"It's too small."

"It's a baby ogre."

In a deep growling voice, the baby spoke to Mutt. "You throw stick?"

"Uh, yeah . . . sorry."

The baby thought for a moment and finally said, "You hit my eye."

Mutt quickly thought and answered, "Yeah, I guess I did. Look, this thing is gold with an emerald in it. It's worth a lot. If ya want it, go ahead and take it. Just don't kill me, please!"

Again the baby thought for a moment, then finally answered, "I keep it . . ."

Mutt leaned over to Runt and whispered, "This thing's dumber than it looks."

Then the baby continued its statement, saying, "But kill you anyway."

Mutt leaned over to Runt again and whispered, "Sounds a bit violent though."

"Ogres are naturally violent," Runt whispered back.

"Maybe he's just misunderstood."

As if offended by the comment, the baby ogre grabbed Mutt's tunic and lifted him up to his face and growled. Runt ran to try to pull them apart. The baby threw Mutt back against the tree and grabbed Runt instead. Mutt quickly got up, grabbed his bow and an arrow and shot it between the baby's eyes, nicking Runt's shoulder. The baby dropped Runt and fell back, inanimate.

Mutt dropped his bow and ran to Runt, asking, "Are ye well, brother?"

Runt's anger flared. He backhanded Mutt with a clenched fist, knocking him three feet away.

"Are ya trying to kill me?" Runt yelled. "Huh? Are ya? Are ya taking shots at me while my back's turned? How do I know you didn't try to kill me while I was unconscious? If you're trying to kill me, why don't ya just grab your damn bow and kill me?

Mutt stood up and said, "I shot the ogre, not you. I was trying to help you because that thing was going to kill ya! I'm sorry I hit ye, but I'm not the best in the world. You'll live."

"Are ye sure? Runt asked, cynically. "I don't think you'll let me live. I think you'll try to kill me any chance ya get. Then do it!"

"Runt, I won't be killin' me own twin brother."

Runt walked over to Mutt, reached down, grabbed his bow and put it in his hand. Then he grabbed an arrow and put it in Mutt's other hand. Then he walked back, grabbed his sword and yelled, "All right, kill me!"

"I won't kill you, Runt."

"Kill me, or I'll kill you."

"I won't kill you!"

"Have it your way." Runt screamed a deathcry and ran, swinging his sword wildly. Mutt's instinct drew the arrow and released. Runt's sword knocked the arrow away and left his hand, rooting itself in Mutt's forehead.

Mutt fell.

Runt grabbed his apple and bit. The worm poked its head through the rest of the apple. Runt spewed out what was in his mouth and splattered the apple against the tree. The sound of the apple against the tree reverberated in his head. But it didn't stop. Runt turned around and saw the horses. Four knights with swords drawn raced toward him.

Runt grabbed his bow and an arrow and knocked off the first knight, grabbing the horse and mounting as he grabbed his sword from his brother's head. He charged the second knight. Runt leaned down, ducking the enemy sword and using his own on the horse's leg. The horse fell, landing on the knight, twisting him to a lifeless pile. Runt turned his horse, but the third knight was upon him too soon. Runt raised his sword, but not in time.

The metal reflected beautifully under Runt's chin.

Pain. Cold. Darkness

Light and Warmth.