As Sacri declared himself king over the Elves, the Black Elves dwelling in the less fortunate regions of Sanas surfaced in the higher parts of the city, called forth by the new king to positions in his guard, in his administration. Taking his seat in what had once been his father's throne, Sacri reveled in the fear and anger he could feel through his Streaks, the emotions of a people scared for their lives and for their power.

The rich and the poor were no longer separated by dwelling place. Now there were the poor Elves, both Lunar and Solar, who frequented the streets once walked only by those who had prospered under the reign of Sacri's parents. But with Sacri's sudden claim over the throne, the Black Elves began to crawl out of the woodwork, climbing to power under their new king.

With the coronation bestowing officially the Riko monarchy on Sacri, the Black Elves became recognized under the throne. Darkness fell over the land as the people lived in fear of their new king.

Ocutus led numerous searches throughout the land, combing Riko for any sign of Feli and Cyren. But as the months slipped by without any sign of the two Elves, Sacri grew more and more paranoid and angry. The people felt their hope and despair war with each other, on some days looking to Tulca Upens and envisioning their explosive monarch falling from his crystal throne, while on others, they looked to the ground and felt the creeping darkness whirl up around them, swallowing their loved ones into its unyielding clutches.

There were a few leads Ocutus followed up that seemed promising enough that Sacri himself would leave Sanas to take command over the hunt. Most of these turned into empty chases, each failure bringing Sacri closer and closer to the brink of insanity. The drive to root out and kill Feli, ridding him of the threat his brother presented to his rule, narrowed his vision to a long tunnel, with only one goal at the end of that funnel of darkness.

As the months eventually became a year since Sacri's ascension to the throne, the king grew ever more eager to find and slay his brother. Ocutus kept searching, kept sending out squads of Elves to deal with Feli. But it wasn't until a month into the second year of Sacri's reign that news of the whereabouts of the second prince and the Demar half-Elf reached Sanas by urgent messenger.

Sacri was pacing around the throne room, muttering under his breath, as the messenger from Ocutus was announced. "He brings news of your brother, your majesty."

Snapping to attention, Sacri whirled on the attendant who had brought him the news. "Where is he? Send him in!"

The attendant nodded and briskly left, returning shortly with the messenger following him. Sacri practically pounced on the Elf. "What of my brother? Has Ocutus found him?"

"A location has been pinpointed," the messenger said, standing at rigid attention. "The lord Ocutus says Feli and Cyren Neptu have both been sighted in the area. The lord Ocutus thought you would wish to know, and perhaps to join the assault."

"Where is he?" Sacri demanded. "I will go to him at once, to lead the hunt. Where is he?"

"Near the Saeris Sea," the messenger replied readily. "At Tiber. He –" But before the messenger could finish his sentence, Sacri had summoned his corrupted Streaks to him and vanished from the throne room.

Ocutus wasn't surprised at the arrival of the king at Tiber. He knew Sacri had been anticipating killing his brother for a long time now. And he knew there was no way he would allow anyone else to lead the strike against the rebellious prince.

Sacri questioned Ocutus on all points surrounding the surveillance, the troop strength, the numbers of Feli's forces, and anything else he could think of. Ocutus answered them all steadily, noting the quickened breath of his friend, the pale cast to his bronzed skin, and the intensity of his gaze. The hunt for Feli had occupied much of his time, too much of his thinking. It had consumed him.

"Tomorrow, we confront them," Ocutus told him quietly. "At the forest's edge."

As the sun spread its rays over the land, sending slivers of light through the thick branches of the scattered trees behind them, Sacri stood at the head of his army of Black Elves, his cross-hilted sword drawn and in his hand. They were positioned atop a hill that sloped down into a thick, dark forest. The rising sun had yet to penetrate the darkness gathered between the trees.

The Black Elves stood behind their king and his chief general, waiting silently for the signal. But before Ocutus could give it, the darkness seen between the trunks of the trees on the edge of the forest suddenly dispersed. In its place were rows upon rows of Elves.

At the head of the Light Elfish army, right in the middle of the stretch of forest, straight across from Sacri, stood Feli, scimitar gripped tightly in his hand. Cyren Neptu stood by his side, diagonal from where Ocutus was positioned beside Sacri.

For several long, quiet minutes, the two opposing armies just stared at each other, gauging the other's numbers and prowess. Sacri and Feli glared at each other, their piercing stare reaching across the mile between them. Although much time had elapsed, their conflict in the throne room was as fresh as if it had occurred yesterday. The anger in their gazes was clear to the two of them. Sacri remembered every word they had exchanged when he had claimed the throne, and he knew that Feli did, as well.

Then Feli, without breaking the silence, raised his scimitar into the air. There was a slight whooshing sound as every single Elf standing in line with the prince raised their own weapons. Glints of light reflected back from the forest as the blades of soldiers behind Feli were lifted up.

Sacri stood still for a moment, observing the army of Light Elves lined up behind his brother. Then he held up his cross-hilted sword.

"Charge!" he yelled.

The Black Elves followed their king and general down the slope towards the forest. Feli called out to his forces to advance to meet the attackers, and then led his troops out to meet his brother.

Sacri gathered his magic to him, running right towards Feli. The younger prince was also aiming for his brother, Cyren by his side as Ocutus was beside Sacri.

The magic seemed to burn within Sacri as he targeted Feli. He was ready for this. Ready to slay his brother.

But just as Sacri was preparing to blast Feli with his black magic, Cyren hit him with a burst of fiery power, throwing him off balance enough to allow Feli to get out of range of his prepared strike.

Sacri caught himself and whirled around, his eyes scanning the crowd of fighting Elves for his brother. As he pivoted, a Light Elf took a swing at him with a scimitar and Sacri unleashed his magic at that Elf, raising blisters on his opponent's skin as the magic poured over him.

Watching the soldier fall to the ground, writhing in pain, Sacri felt the adrenaline of battle flow through him, cleansing him of the impurities obsession and near insanity had left within him. He wanted to kill, wanted to feel the purifying pain of others.

He turned, magic filling the air around him, looking for another nearby victim.

Feli's corpse would only add to the ones he had felled.