Devil's Play

Prologue

"Ye have three days to decide. I'll be listening." The man exit through the large doors as swiftly as he came. Lord Jareth was flabbergasted. The man had just waltzed in, waged war, and left. 'Why didn't I yell for the guards?' Jareth's subconscious questioned. But he knew perfectly well why he didn't. Lives were at stake here. Either his family's or his nation. He was to choose the fate of those at his mercy. Though no matter what he chose, the blood would be on his hands.

"Father? Father!" shouted a vibrant young girl, age of seven, "Who was that man?" Her blue eyes shone with wonder as she looked up to her father while holding onto his arm. "He was scary. I know you think so too. I can see it in your eyes."

He forced out an awkward chuckle, "I don't know what you're talking about sweetheart. Your father doesn't get scared. People drop their gauntlets at me constantly and it doesn't faze me in the slightest." There was no way in the 13 Kingdoms that he would tell his daughter the fate that could befall her. They were stationed all around his kingdom. Millions of soldiers marching closer and closer and yet no one had notice. Not even the serfs who tended the fields. He, himself, would never have known if it wasn't for the messenger. That awful man.

"He rubs me the wrong way. Something isn't right about that man," said a voice, sweet as honey, that Jareth knew all too well. The voice of his beloved wife Celestial.

"He is strange, I do agree, but I do not believe it is anything to worry about my love," responded Jareth as he leaned over and kissed his wife. "Now," his voice now seeming to have it's strength back, "let our day continue on. 'Tis a trifle matter indeed." Jareth stood up from his chair and stretched, back popping.

"Father is getting old," giggled his daughter.

"Now, now Adelina. Don't say that your father is old. He already knows," giggled Celestial.

Jareth picked up both of his girls and spun them around, laughing. "Don't count me out yet. I'm still up and kicking." The moment was so perfect he almost forgot about the man. If only he did.

That night he went to bed satisfied. He had a hearty dinner, humored his daughter with swordplay, and talked of local town gossip with his wife. 'What more could I ask for?' he thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep, his wife curled against his chest.

Dreams crept into his mind. He was particularly fond of dreams of his family. He dreamed of his family this night, but the dream was not full of happy images. Their bodies lay on the floor, rigid as stone. The looks on their pale faces were of pain. Vomit dripped down the walls and their cheeks onto puddles on the floor. The whole sight was gruesome and it made Jareth feel sick to his stomach. 'Who could do such a thing?' Almost as if answering his thoughts, he sees himself in a mirror. Only it's not him. It's death. As he scrambles away from the mirror he runs out of the manor and into the streets looking for someone, anyone to help. However, when he makes it to the village, all there is nothing but silence. Every building in sight is charred and broken. Blood rivers run through the streets and severed body parts float in the streams. He follows the blood in the opposite way of it's flow, to its source. He follows it all the way to the center of the town and finds a pile of headless bodies.

One of the bodies' hands catches his eye. A brass ring with golden engravings resting on its middle finger. It reads, "I bestow my luck upon you." There was only one of those in the kingdom. That meant that this body was of his brother's. He turned away only to be faced with another body. But this one had a head and was smiling. "Two days left Lord Jareth. I'll be listeninggggggggg."

Jareth awoke with a start. "What is it my love," inquired Celestial in a sleepish daze.

"Nothing my dear, go back to bed." She was out again in a matter of moments. Jareth on the other hand had things to do. He put on a robe and rushed to his study. He shut the doors right as he got in and locked it tight. He needed to not be disturbed. A map of his kingdom lay on the table. Everything from the Fallow field to the Lord's private land was on it. Pulling up a chair he sat down and considered his possibilities.