The Barbarian King and the Rider

In a very dark time, there was a simple kingdom ruled by a truly greedy man.

He didn't look the part, mind you - strong arms, a toned body, a defined chin, a proud look in his eyes. He looked quite kingly, actually. And he was - he had ruled the land for many years, and the lands had grown used to his rule. He might've been greedy and careless, but neighboring countries fared far worse.

 

And as the pale moon rose over the frozen plain of this land, worse came. A single being, riding on a paler horse came south onto the capital. The dark king knew this force - unchecked, it too would rule the land and subjugate him. He could not stand for this - it was his land, no one else's.

 

So he rode out on a dark stallion to end the being.

 

Only one witness sat to see it - a squire who brought the weapon of the warlord to his king. The king dragged it along the ground, disregarding its impractically large size in an attempt to scare off the being. The Dark Rider chuckled slowly, then dismounted. The King rushed at him like any barbarian would, filled with blood-lust and a mad grin on his face. The sparks of steel and magic blinded our poor observer, but when he looked back he saw both figures still standing, but both steeds had fled.

 

Afraid to move, this little boy waited until day to even move. When day broke, he saw the scene as it was - a dagger in the neck of the king, and the great-blade of the King through the Rider's heart. Their corpses held each other up through the night, forever locked as a testament to how their greed most surely ended both of them.