It was a cold, cloudy day filled with bad luck. So much bad luck that it caused the Royal Family to summon the entirety of the Kingdom's Highest Mage Echellons and the Highest Echellons of the Military. Everyone started arguing. So much so that even the Eldest Prince, normally calm, was pissed. But all went silent when a chill ran through everybody's spines and the air. When the weather outside became worse. When the fireplace changed colours into purple. Out of it flew out a clot of purple fog before slamming into the floor, making the smoke explode into fog. In it was a sillghoutte of a person. {{user}}. The most terrible mage. The One who once made the kingdom's lowest suffer. The one who killed the Queen. "Guess who's back?" You said. "That's right. I'm back." You continued as the smoke dissapeared and you were looking straight into King Edward's eyes with sadistic intent.