The High Lord of the Dark Land looked into the mirror as the servant behind him slowly brushed his red, spiky hair. He sighed in pleasure as her brush caught on a snarl, and she worked it out more roughly than was strictly necessary. When she was finished with his hair, he spread out his large, beautifully ribbed wings and she lightly dusted the black skin with gold powder. The cosmetics were hardly necessary, but liked the way the gold looked against his obsidian skin.

In most ways, he was like a negative image of what he had been in life. His skin was gunmetal black, and there were white little darts on his cheeks. Only his eyes were unchanged… still the beautiful, glittering green they had always been. He had always wondered a bit why that was the case. He would have expected them to turn red.

"Master?" He glanced over at the servant, who was awaiting instructions. She was a newcomer to the Dark Land, and a pretty one as well. Her honey colored hair was still what it had been in her old life, and so were her dark brown eyes. Unlike most, she had adjusted well to her servitude and so had been given the prestigious duty of attending to him. He idly contemplated taking her, but decided against it. It would be showing too much favor too early.

"Fetch my breakfast and tend to your duties." She bowed her head and left the room. He contemplated himself in the mirror again, then picked up a book and began to read. He wasn't in the mood for socializing this morning. His court could go on without him. The story he was reading was an epic battle between the angels and the demons, with a bit of forbidden love between an angel and a succubus thrown in. Rubbing his eyes, he frowned, then sighed and reached for his reading glasses. The body he was currently inhabiting had very poor eyesight, which could be remedied with a spell for a time, but it always wore off.

"Ridiculous." He muttered as he read, but kept reading all the same. Oh, it was possible for an angel and a succubus to have a liaison, even fall in love. But the so-called Queen of Light was sure to find out, with fatal consequences to the angel. Unless the angel fled to the Dark Land, of course. That had happened once or twice. Once it had even provoked a war when the Queen had demanded they surrender the angel, and he had refused. He couldn't bring himself to regret spitting in her face.

He wondered sometimes if the angels had even the slightest clue how the world worked. He knew without question that the Creator of Worlds had explained things to the Queen, but had she explained it to her angels? That was an entirely different question. The Creator wouldn't care if she did or didn't, so it was possible they really believed their prattling nonsense about purging the Dark Land of evil.

As if. What the angels didn't seem to understand, and the Queen didn't seem to want to acknowledge, was that the land itself was flawed. The creation was flawed, and if they succeeded in purging the Dark Lands of all its current inhabitants, any angels they settled in the Dark Lands would be demons of various stripes within a decade. And if they tried to keep the land empty, they would have to slaughter all the innocent newcomers whose hearts had called out to the Dark Lands.

The door opened and he looked up as his breakfast arrived. The servant set it carefully on the table and whisked away the silver cover from… what?

"What is this?" He considered it dubiously. It looked like some kind of pizza, but he generally didn't consider that breakfast food, and he really did like breakfast foods.

"A breakfast pizza, Master. It's a hash brown crust with fresh tomato sauce, scrambled eggs, sausage and mozzarella cheese. The cook says that if you don't like it, Master, she also has some wonderful muesli ready as well."

"Did the head chef tell you to say that?" He said dryly, and she nodded. "Impudent wench." Her eyes widened, suddenly fearful and he waved it away. "Not you. She knows I hate muesli. It's the dried fruit, I can't stand it." He hated the way it always got stuck in his sharp, pointed teeth. He had better things to do then pick fruits and nuts out of his teeth for an hour. He tentatively tried the pizza, then began to eat. "Fortunately, this is good, so you can tell her I spare her life. This time." He wasn't really kidding. Fortunately for the head chef, she had a way of proving her worth every time he was tempted to decapitate her. "You may go." He took a deep drink of his coffee, enjoying the burning heat as the servant hastily departed.

He took the time to have a leisurely breakfast, then settled in a comfortable chair to read his book. Eventually, of course, he would have to appear before the Court… but he was the High Lord. He could take his time.

Eyes slitted, the High Lord watched his court at play.

The great hall was massive, as it needed to be to fit even most of his court. There wasn't enough room for all of it, and he had considered expanding but the positioning of the court made it difficult. Some of the best quarters in the place would have to be leveled to make room. Also, it was helpful to have a way to indicate obvious displeasure and lack of status.

A whip cracked, and he turned his head idly to watch Mirtana disciplining her subordinates. She was the second housekeeper, and her people handled the second wing of the hall… and, by iron clad custom, had a place in the serving rotation of the great hall.

If he could have, he would have left her out of that rotation. Her women and men… mostly women… were completely naked. The better to beat them, as Mirtana liked to say. Although her torments could get far, far, far more creative than that. He'd heard that the torturers sometimes went to her for inspiration. Alas, while the dark energies of the Dark Land made everyone more attractive, nothing was going to help some of Mirtana's slavies. He averted his gaze as she cracked her whip again, and caught the eye of a pretty little succubus.

The hall was particularly hot today, even for the Dark Land, and she was wearing as little as possible… glass beads and feathers strung on golden threads. She glanced away, as if uninterested, but deliberately walked past, her beads sliding over slick skin and giving an accidental peep show that was particularly titillating for the casualness of it. He mentally noted her, and quickly recalled her name… Istava, a relative newcomer to the court. She had completed her term as a servant only a year ago.

All newcomers were servants of some type, except for the rare few who were so powerful they warranted an immediate place. Eventually, when it was decided they had adapted sufficiently, they were officially inducted to a particular type of demon and given permission to find other places at the court or elsewhere. Some stayed as servants because it was what they were good at… and that too was an avenue of advancement. The High Lord smiled briefly as he remembered his own arrival at court. He had glowed with the power of fire and darkness, and the current High Lord had tried to eliminate him immediately. It had done him no good at all.

"My lord!" A Rage demon knelt before him, and the High Lord contemplated his slick black hair for a moment before gesturing to him to rise. The demon did, his black armor creaking as he stood. The Rage demons were elite fighters, and often patrolled his realm with Blade demons, gathering up newcomers and keeping the angels from getting ideas. As well as enforcing whatever laws they pleased on the demons outside the court. "We have a new group of newcomers for you to review, my lord." The High Lord nodded gravely. It was another tradition that all newcomers be brought to him so he could pick out any obvious anomalies.

"Arise, and bring them in." The court quieted a bit as they got a good look at the new meat. Not one of them was past thirty years in age, which was normal. Only relative youngsters came to the Dark Land. A few greater Nobodies that he easily picked out, a single greater Heartless, and the rest were mortals. Mostly human, a few beings he recognized as a type of elf-

"Axel?!?" A brown haired boy gasped, and the High Lord's eyes snapped onto him. One of the Blades cursed and drove a booted foot into the boys back, slamming him down onto his face. But he froze as the High Lord raised a hand. He knelt down beside the boy, his black robes pooling on the floor, and lifted the child up by his chin.

Seventeen years old at the most. Probably younger. He thought, feeling a strange pity in his dark heart. It was very young to come to the Dark Land. Big blue eyes stared at him, terrified and confused. The High Lord noted that the boys' clothes were ripped badly, and there were bloody marks beneath. The rips also revealed a very fine body, slender but muscular and quite appealing. He ran a startlingly red tongue over his black lips, then clicked his teeth together as he sensed the latent power in the boy. It was very unusual, and he noted the boy was chained heavily. No doubt he had put up a fierce resistance when the Rage and Blades had found him.

"What is your name, child?" He asked in a deceptively gentle tone, and the boy shivered before he answered.

"Sora… who… who are you? You look like Axel but…" The features were exactly the same, but the black skin and white marks were clearly very different. The High Lord smiled, revealing delicately pointed fangs.

"I knew an Axel, once upon a time. He was my Nobody. And I… am a Heartless." The boy's eyes widened in fear and… resolve? Determination? Some kind of will to resist. Axel sighed, then smiled again, slowly releasing the boy's chin and making it into a caress. He stood, glancing over at the Rage who had watched silently. "Have this one cleaned, his wounds seen to, and brought to my room. Oh… and get a special pair of shackles from the armory." He looked down at Sora and smiled again. "The ones designed for keyblade bearers." Sora blinked and paled, and Axel was pleased to see some of his certainty melt away.

And so it should. He wasn't the first keyblade holder the Dark Land had seen, and he wouldn't be the last.