It was late afternoon the next day when they reached the adoption agency where Gerald had dropped Rose sixteen years earlier.  It was the only one in the kingdom that had a "no questions asked" policy.  Actually, it was the only one in the kingdom period.  It stood several miles outside of Faretown, and though they had been able to get a brief ride with a trucker (who talked obsessively about some sort of shaving cream none of them had ever heard of), he dropped them off two miles away when they refused to sign up for his sales team. 

Going to the adoption agency was Gerald's idea. When the Wizard mentioned the ring the night before it jogged Gerald's memory, and he'd been awake the whole night reliving the day Rose was born.  He had been warned not to lose the ring, but the first thing he'd done upon regaining consciousness in this future time was identified the quickest route to the nearest (and only) adoption agency, and relieve himself of any and all burdens pertaining to the child.  This included the ring. 

"If I were king," Arien was saying yet again as they walked down the long dirt road, "I shouldn't allow salespeople to be so heavy-handed with their pitches.  It's quite unbecoming don't you think?  Oh, wait, I AM King," he added pompously. 

This earned him a dark look from Gerald, and a "Still not king yet," quip from Rose, who had been listening to this nonsense since the night before.  The idea of being king had gone to Arien's head quicker than a three-year-old can disappear at bath time, and he'd spent the majority of the day trying out different voices he thought sounded "kingly."  In reality, they all made him sound like he had his head shoved deeply up his ass, which wasn't all that far from the truth.  He kept talking with Rose chiming in.

"This being King ("Nope") stuff, is quite interesting so far you know, ("We really don't, why don't you tell us some more?") I suppose I really should start to get to know my subjects ("They're not YOURS, they belong only to themselves.") and see what they would like to have in a king.  You know I supposed it's kind of like being a father ("Oh here we go with the patriarchy*..."), but I'm not sure being a king is like being a cult leader (it is...talk about pyramid schemes...) so I'll have to figure out who to model myself on.  Gerald, do you have any books about kings?"

"Do I look like I'm carrying around a library?" Gerald grumbled.

In fact, Gerald's enchanted cloak did include a small library.**

"If you keep up with this king stuff I may just decide to destroy the world after all.  Then you won't have a kingdom...because you'll be dead," Rose mused.  Gerald looked at her sharply to see if she was being serious.  Arien wasn't listening.

"How do you think I should bow?  Or do people only bow to me?" Arien mused, lost in thought he completely missed the fact that Rose and Gerald were side-stepping a large hole in the road.  He fell right in and ended up with his ass in the wind.  It all seemed so appropriate that Rose collapsed with laughter and couldn't stir herself for several minutes.  Gerald grinned for the first time he could remember and let Arien struggle for a moment before helping him out. 

"You're not supposed to laugh at the King!" Arien shouted at Rose, who was still grounded with mirth. 

"Please excuse me..." she put on a momentary straight face, "...Your Hinie-ness," she dissolved once again into uncontrollable giggling.  Arien's face was as red as his (now much dirtier) robe, and Gerald had to excuse himself because he couldn't be seen having a good time.  Finally, Rose wiped the tears off her face from laughing so much and got back to her feet.  Arien had resorted to a strangely attractive pout, and Gerald was enjoying himself more than he had in years. 

The adoption agency, which didn't seem to have a name, was located in what had once been a small cottage, but which had been added onto many many times over the years.  The result looked like a giant's head sticking partway out of the ground, where the cottage was the nose and projected out from an ugly and incongruous face behind it.  There were toys everywhere.

A small bell tinkled when they entered and a young harassed-looking woman hustled up the hallway from the back room. 

"Can I help you?" She asked breathlessly. "Please tell me you're not here to drop them off," she said to Gerald, gesturing to Rose and Arien.  "We really can't take any more teens at the moment, and these ones look practically like adults.  You can just kick them out if they're causing you trouble."

The three of them exchanged confused and slightly concerned looks. 

Gerald cleared his throat, "Ah, no, I'm not here to drop them off.  I already did that actually.  Well, her (he pointed his thumb at Rose), about 16 years ago."

"Oh, that's a relief," the woman said.  "I keep telling Anna to change our 'no questions asked' policy, or at least limit the age range, but she keeps putting me off and now we have more kids than we know what to do with."

"Aren't you supposed to find them parents?" Rose asked.

"You make it sound easy!" The woman exclaimed.  "It's not like parents just grow on trees you know, though several have unfortunately been found on them."  She didn't explain further and they had no desire to ask.

"Riiiight..." Gerald continued carefully, "Well, we're here to help Rose trace some possessions which came with her when I brought her here, and we're trying to figure out if they got left here or were taken with her when she was adopted."

"Oh, so you were adopted?" The woman asked.

Rose frowned at her, "Clearly?"

"Right, of course, well let me see.  What's your name, and what year were you brought here?"

They told her and she went into a back room and came back with a long skinny box.  She shuffled through a long list of note cards, muttering about how they actually got kids adopted back then and didn't just keep them until she found Rose's card. 

"Here we are:

Sex: Female
Name: Rose
Age at relinquishment: Three days old
Birth Parents: Deceased
Age at Adoption: Ten days old
Adopted parents: Eloise and Maxwell Dingleburg"

She looked up startled, "THE Dingleburgs? As in the Dingleburg fortune?" She asked.

Rose shrugged her shoulders.  She knew nothing about her adoptive parents, who died when she was four.  She told the woman this who's mouth dropped open. 

"Oh my goodness, you are the lost heir to the Dingleburg fortune and you have no idea? This is like a fairytale!" (She was spot on - This is a fairytale)

Arien guffawed at the name and Rose shot him a look, "What?" He said, "It's funny.  Dingleburg.  That's almost Dingleberry***."  Rose looked at him until he stopped chuckling.  The woman kept talking.

"Goodness gracious," she kept repeating, pacing back and forth, "I had no idea the rumors were true.  I mean, I guess some of them weren't since you're not dead obviously, but the lost part was true."

"Hmmm," Rose interjected, "I don't think I was really lost...I was taken to an orphanage and then adopted by a cult."

"Really? Goodness me. Did they know who you were?"

"I have no idea.  None of us have last names."

"So where did you grow up? I'm sorry, I'm being terribly nosy but this is all just so fascinating.  Wait until people hear that I've found the lost heir to the Dingleburg fortune!"

"Yes, that's all very nice," Gerald interrupted, "but we really need to find the ring that was dropped off with Rose."

"Oh, I'm so sorry.  Getting off topic again, that's me."  She chortled, scrolling down the words on the list,

"Ah, possessions handed over to adoptive parents...

One baby blanket
One rag doll,
One ring - silver, with a large black stone on top.

Says here that it was handed over to her adoptive parents."

She kept looking at Rose as if she was meeting a real-life celebrity.  This was true for a number of reasons, but Rose didn't understand any of this and was worried the woman was doing something called "flirting." It made her uncomfortable. 

"So, where was this place where I lived?" Rose asked.

"Oh gosh, it was a long ways from here.  The other side of the country.  The Dingleburgs were famous for owning almost a sixth of the land.  They even owned that old haunted castle ruin.  They didn't live there of course.  That place has connections to the devil if you ask me," she said in a whisper.  She was closer to the truth than she knew.

"So you basically grew up on your own lands," Arien said.  "Hey! I grew up on your lands." He laughed and then frowned as the implications dawned on him. "Maybe your cult did know who you were then?  Maybe they wanted your land?"****

Rose was also beginning to see this pattern, and she was not amused.

"So where is the ring now?" Gerald muttered, "We can't exactly search the ruins of your old home.  Maybe we can check with the orphanage where you were taken.  I wonder who found you in the first place?" 

"Wait..." Rose said thoughtfully, "You said this ring was silver with a large black stone in it?" The woman, who after all this time hadn't introduced herself, nodded, handing the card for Rose to inspect herself.

Rose turned suddenly to Gerald, "Fate had a ring exactly like that! I kept staring at it during the ride because it seemed familiar to me."

"So if Fate's had it all this time why wouldn't she just give it to you?" Arien asked.

Rose looked at Gerald, who frowned.  "My guess is she couldn't give it to you until you knew about it, and she won't give it to you until you need it.  You know how these 'quest' things work (they didn't)."  

"So I have to figure out what I need, and why I need it, and only then will she give it to me?" She asked.  Gerald nodded.

"Oh, are you all on a quest? I've always wanted to go on one," said the lady.

Gerald said no right as Rose said yes. She was about to get even nosier when screams lit the evening air and a small, grubby child came running into the cottage.

"Ms. Fulston! There's people in the trees! Them's have fire sticks!"

That's when they all heard the chanting and yelling.  They rushed out in front of the cottage and were greeted to a very strange sight.  Children of all ages had gathered to stare at a large group of advancing people who were carrying torches, wearing all black, and chanting something which they couldn't quite make out.  They were also very well armed.

Rose, who had uncommonly good eyesight, recognized the trucker they had ridden with at the front.  The symbol on his shirt as the same one printed on the marketing materials he'd tried to force on them. 

"Look!" He shouted, "There they are.  They're the ones who wouldn't join us.  Too good for us are they? Well, we'll show them.  OMEGA SHAVE or death!"

Everyone was very startled by this and several children who were old enough to understand what this meant started to cry.

Arien, being somewhat kingly for the first time in his life, sprung into action and yelled for the older kids to grab the younger ones and find places to hide in the forest.  Thankfully, since most of the children were left to their own devices all day, they had many excellent hiding places in the forest.  He directed Ms. Fulston to grab whatever weapons she might have, which were limited to a pair of very sharp fabric shears and a poker from the fireplace.  This he grabbed and brandished like a sword at the approaching mob. 

"I am the future king of this land, and you are committing treason!  I command you to turn around and go home," he shouted.

This did halt the mob for a moment while their chemical-ravaged brains tried to process his words. 

"Is this a Kingdom?"

"Do we have a king?"

"I thought we were a socialist society."

"No, Bob, we're capitalists."

"Actually we're an oligarchy."

"How do you know which is which?"

"...good question...never thought about it."

"But we're not a kingdarchy?"

"That's not a word Bob, you're looking for Monarchy, and no, we're not."

"So no king."

It was settled, there was no King, and thus no Kingdom.  The mob brandished their weapons and torches and with cacophonous yells, they broke into a run to see who would be the first to kill the self-proclaimed "future king."

"Ummm, guys?" Arien squeaked.

Gerald pushed Arien out of the way and began to move his hands.  Nets materialized and spun toward the men, entangling several of them, but it was clear that Gerald's magic could only capture so many of them at once, and Rose realized that she and her friends, and potentially the only adult all of the surrounding children had to count on, were about to be murdered by a bunch of fanatical shaving cream salesmen.****

This was an unacceptable way to die, but she feared what would happen if she broke down the wall keeping Onyx at bay.  The power she felt before called to her, and she didn't know if she would be able to stop herself from destroying more than the intended target.  

Ms. Fulston was trying to keep ahold of her fabric shears next to her but was in danger of losing them because she was shaking so much.  Arien swung his poker at a man carrying a large knife who had come around Gerald intending to stab him in the back.  He ended up disarming the man, though narrowly missing hitting Gerald in the process, and Rose made a mental note that he probably should get some sword lessons if he did actually become King.  Unfortunately, the man was very large, and though relieved of his knife, he jumped on Arien and in no time had his hands around Arien's neck. 

Gerald was beginning to look quite gray from the exertion of using his magic so much for the first time in 16 years.  It was much like running a marathon while being incredibly out of shape, and though he had felled at least a dozen men, he looked about to pass out.  He looked back at her with a mix of fear and desperation.

"Rose, help!" he gasped.

She felt frozen, watching Arien turn purple, and Gerald began to sway.  Was it worth it?  What if it didn't work?  What if she ended up destroying everyone?  Wasn't that her destiny? 

"Girl," said Ms. Fulston in a shaky voice, "if you've got anything up your sleeve, now's the time to use it, because these types of people aren't going to stop with you and your friends, they're going to come after the children when they're finished."

That decided her.  For the first time, she intentionally looked inward at the wall she had built up in herself to Onyx at bay, and she pulled part of it down.  Time stilled once more as Onyx looked back at her with her eyes of nothingness. 

"Help me," she pleaded, and Onyx reached out.  Rose clasped her hand and power filled her. 

Time shuttered into motion once more and with a terrifyingly beautiful smile, Rose began to kill. 

It felt so good.

The mob of insane salesmen never knew what hit them.  One by one their miserable, mediocre lives were snuffed out.  Rose saw all of the bad things they had done in life pass by her as if she were watching a quick video of each life she took.  Adulterers, abusers, and sociopaths, men who abandoned their children, and emotionally tortured people.  They were once doctors, lawyers (a lot of lawyers - since at this time the kingdom had obtained far too many, where they used to have none), "scientists," farmers, and insurance salesmen. 

With every life she took she felt like she was making the world slightly better - cleaner.  With her power she could snuff out all the evil in the world, and it would feel wonderful.

"Rose," a voice called, "ROSE!" Someone shook her and she whirled around, ready to end their life as well.

"ROSE STOP! PLEASE!" The unexpected politeness startled her into releasing the power, and she looked around her with clear eyes.  Gerald was on his knees in front of her, arm raised to shield himself. The bodies of the salesmen were piled high.  There was only one more left and he was sobbing on the ground, begging for his life.

"Rose, that's enough," Gerald said.  "He won't harm us.  You've saved everyone." The salesman, realizing he was getting a reprieve swiftly picked himself up off the ground and ran as fast as he could back down the road, solemnly swearing to never touch Omega Shave products ever again.

"Hey," Arien rasped, trying to roll the corpse of his attacker off of him and failing. "Could you maybe come help out your King?"

Rose rounded on him, "YOU'RE NOT KING!" She yelled.  She had been terrifyingly close to completely losing control, and the gaping chasm between what felt good and what she knew to be right petrified her.  She was less certain than ever that when the time came she would be able to save the world.

She sighed, "Sorry I yelled at you." She realized her hands were shaking as she pulled the heavy body off of him.  She struggled not to cry as her adrenaline subsided.

Arien looked more than a little frightened by her outburst, and definitely embarrassed for inciting it, but gracefully accepted her apology.  "That's ok, I know I'm not king yet.  I'll stop pretending," he said sheepishly, getting to his feet.  "Did you know your eyes turned completely black?"

Rose didn't know what to say to this, so she said nothing.  Gerald squeezed her shoulder, still struggling to stand straight after his magical exertion.

"You did well, Rose.  We might have hope yet."

"Don't touch me," she whispered, but it was halfhearted.  Despite all of his grumbling, she actually felt comforted by Gerald's presence.

"I can't promise anything, but I'll try," she said.

"That's all we can ever ask of you," Gerald said quietly.

"I'm sorry to have to ask this, but could you all please do something about all these...bodies?" Ms. Fulston interrupted in a squeaky voice, waiving at all the dead men on her lawn.  They had completely forgotten she was there.

"And then could you please go far away from here?  Mobs are not good for business."

_______________________________

Next Time on The Dark Heir...
Lorred D'Kay destroys a convention center.
Welsh Werewolves insist upon inserting themselves into the story.
Arien finds his first subjects.
_______________________________

*
Rose spent a good deal of the previous night reading up on "the patriarchy" since there was a small pile of books on it located in the restroom.  She took several back to her bed.

**
It should be noted that while Gerald liked to pass himself off as just a magician, and one in hiding at that, he was actually quite good at magic.  His malcontentedness and his forgettable features were actually what held him back from achieving the title of mage, though he didn't know it. 
The Mage Society took one look at his character profile, as described by his teachers (it was very short), looked at him, and decided it was lunch time and left him standing in the testing room alone.  He hadn't known what to do, so he sat there, but when they came back they had forgotten he was a student, assumed he was an intern and asked him to let the next student in. 
It didn't matter though, because he was much happier being able to complain about always being looked down upon, or going unnoticed and unrecognized despite his talents.

***
Google it...

***
A truer statement has probably never been made about cults.

****
Are there any other kind - really?