Flames set ablaze his once-safe home of the Elven Kingdom. He stood front and center of the gates, his back turned toward the chaos. His eyes narrowed into small slits at the silence of the kingdom. Elves couldn't ever fend for themselves, anyway. Weak. All of them. The attack against the elves was uncalled for, no one had time to prepare for the lethal force used against them.

Turning to walk, his heavy footsteps carried him to the castle, where he kicked open the doors. It was time to put an end to the problem.

The king.

Revealing his sword, he dragged it on the ground beside him.

"Come out. Stop hiding. Face me like you've done in the past," he called, standing in the throne room, his expression dark.

Will he? Or will he be a coward and run off like he always does?

Stan doesn't have all day.