UD: In the Gardens of the Eldest

Tez strode through the gardens of his seraglio, long, unbound, bright red hair streaming down his back to his waist, over the folds of his cape, pointed ears glittering with jewelry, master of all he surveyed.  Behind him two servitor guards stepped with him, on alert always against those who would challenge his claim of mastery of the Elves, though he had held that claim for a thousand years now, and would for a thousand or more. For was he not the Eldest of the Elves, beyond dispute?

Along the edge of the path, a smaller elf crouched, naked in the manner of the lowest servants, weeding the garden, auburn hair, reddish but darker than Tez’s own, falling over his face as he calmly pulled weeds out of the beds lining the path.

Tez paused, placing a smile on his face though there was no audience to see it. It paid well to be kind to the lower servants, for it granted him a reputation for benevolence and evenhandedness in his dealings with the greater population.

“Hello little one,” Tez greeted. “And how are you today?”

The naked servitor paused in his work and rose to his feet, keeping his gaze to the flagstones as was proper. Tez noted the fading scars of whip marks across the little elf’s shoulders, and deeper scars at his wrists and ankles, marking the servitor as an ex-slave or prisoner. All the better. Was his realm not benevolent and forgiving to allow such obvious trash to serve in his palace?

“I am well, Great Lord. I have been enjoying the sunshine.”

“As well you should. What is your name, little one?”

A ghost of a smile crossed the scarred elf’s face, a flash of white teeth that was quickly suppressed. “Great Lord, I feel you would be deeply offended to know it.”

Tez cocked his head slightly. Was the little piece of trash jesting with him? He decided to ignore it and maintain his own smile. “You cannot offend me, little one. Am I not Tez the Eldest? Am I not the font of Wisdom for this land? What is your name?”

“Ah you wish, Great Lord.” The servitor raised his head, revealing bright green eyes, his smile open now. “You see, my name is Tez as well.”

Tez’s smile faded, and he felt a rippled of surprise run through him, cold and piercing. Quickly regaining his composure, he said coolly, “I do not care to be mocked, little one. What you say is impossible. There cannot be more than one Tez. That is the Law woven into this land.”

“So it is.” The little naked servitor trash’s smile did not falter, nor did he flinch, as two crossbow bolts apiece pierced the ensorcelled armor of Tez’s guards, striking them both in the chest and the back, the shooters invisible, even though there was no place to hide in the low beds of flowers.

Tez took a step back, looking around for aid. There were no other servants visible, nor any guards. Where were the other guards?

“It’s taken me some time to get back here,” the… other Tez… said mildly. His smile dropped, replaced with a look of utter, pure and distilled malice. “I have been so looking forward to meeting you.”