The Reign of King Famine

Prince Famine did not say anything. Instead, he smiled at the wide sharpened bone grin of a protein food, as he reached out for the necklaces. The pastor did not have to wait long to see what just what he would do. As soon as he touched the pendants, their forms glowing as his claws made contact before their chains wrapped and linked themselves around his neck, they began to improve their new host. Finally! It begins. King Famine thought, as the mana of all six pedants radiated through him causing him to grow bigger growing from the average of one foot for a foodie to six feet tall within seconds of being coronated with the fat lacing his belly became thicker and bouncier, he could feel his hind legs snap and reform allowing him to walk on his hind legs if he so chose.

The Reign of King Famine

Day 0

“Do you Prince Potluck Famine, son of the deceased Potluck Famine the Ninth, accept the crown and robes that mark you as King of Potluck?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you promise to keep this nation well fed as Potluck Famine the Ninth did?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you, in the best interests of yourself and your people, promise to do everything you can to find new holders of each of the Feasters Pendants who will function as your council?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you promise, that in sickness or injury, you will step down and let your Feasters Council rule in your stead until you recover or an heir of yours is old enough to rule?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then, with the dawning of your dress, crown, and temporary regalia; I now pronounce you King Potluck Famine the Tenth. May all of Potluck nourish you with the same hope and love that you serve to it. Long live King Famine!”

The main room of the cathedral was a tall egg-shaped and eggshell white dome; windows dark as a burnt steak from the storm clouds forming outside lined the walls while the floor was covered in winged and wingless foodie dragons no matter the food group— fruit, veggie, protein, grain, dairy, or sweets –they did or did not belong to. As Prince Famine was decorated in his ceremonial robe and crown, made from the volunteered organs and body parts of earlier kings before him, including his father, he resisted the urge to shutter in thrill. Soon, he would take all that was owed to him, all that his father tried to deny him. The first thing I will do is wipe out all those filthy interbreeding podgers and all their spawn alongside all the other fools who think such actions are right. Soon. With the release of a shaky breath, Prince Famine smiled as the crowd broke their silence, beginning to hoot as the pastor before he turned around and opened a see-through glass cabinet that held the Feasters Pendants. These ancient indestructible artifacts not only allowed those who wielded them to have food-based powers and hexes beyond imagination, but they also allowed one to morph the world and even the food pyramid hierarchy to their liking.

“Oh my! Prince, you are crying!” The pastor said as he turned back around, white pillow in hand. The Feasters Pendants. All six of them were beautiful. “Knew you would make a wonderful leader, so moved by the idea of continuing the lineage of your father that you moved to tears. How wonderful! I cannot wait to see what you do.”

Prince Famine did not say anything. Instead, he smiled at the wide sharpened bone grin of a protein food, as he reached out for the necklaces. The pastor did not have to wait long to see what just what he would do. As soon as he touched the pendants, their forms glowing as his claws made contact before their chains wrapped and linked themselves around his neck, they began to improve their new host. Finally! It begins. King Famine thought, as the mana of all six pedants radiated through him causing him to grow bigger growing from the average of one foot for a foodie to six feet tall within seconds of being coronated with the fat lacing his belly became thicker and bouncier, he could feel his hind legs snap and reform allowing him to walk on his hind legs if he so chose.

By the time he was done being altered, his head was mere inches away from the ceiling of the cathedral with his clothes having adjusted to his size as well thanks to the magic that had infused them. He looked down, to see the crowd of much smaller foodies staring up at him in awe, none spoke a word even the pastor too in his majesty. “Thank you! Thank you, everyone!” King Famine cheered; the crowd joined in his rapture although not for long. The pendants glowed, causing the foodies to rise as they were coiled in a pale yellow aura, soaring higher and higher until they all circled his head like planetary bodies. “As my first function as King, I ask one thing of you.” The gentle rotation of his subjects halted with a single nobleman protein foodie and a peasant veggie foodie staring curiously into him as they and all the others hovered above the ground. “Give your nutrition to me.”

“Huh?”

“My King, what do you—”

That is when the screaming began; as the gentle aura that hugged the pair in front of his suddenly became crushing, breaking bones and forcing wails of agony out of the two. King Famine seized this moment as he yanked a black sphere out of the mouths, their nutrition, in an instant the two foodies he had stolen it from changed. Their forms go limp as the once healthy produce that made them up wilted and rotted and molded rapidly without anything to keep it fresh. But they would not die, no, King Famine ensured that he left just enough for them to stay alive. He dropped them once the nobleman and peasant were no use to him, as soon as their unconscious bodies smacked against the floor below, he started the rotation again this time with his subjects hollering and begging for mercy. King Famine had none. He sucked most all near dry and killed many a podger by taking all their nutrition from himself. Yes, today was the day the food pyramid would change.

King Famine would be at the top and reap all the benefits of his position.

Day 71

The dungeon was dark and cold, the gag-inducing rank of death and despair heavy.

Skeletonized and mutilated foodies hung from walls, cells were stuffed so full of traitors and degenerates that dragons had to stand on top of battered breathing brethren for any semblance of room, and bones from everything from sugar to keratin laid scattered all over the cells and halls of the pink and white cobblestoned dungeon. With another roar of blue and purple flames, King Famine burned the chest of his newest prisoner, as to be expected the ice cream-sculpted area, the one he had carefully aimed for melted upon contact with the heat. Bubbling and popping whilst the frozen treat turned to liquid splattering onto the stone floor. Sweet sugar and fruity spices filled the air, but the pleasant aroma did little to quell the acidic scents of unwashed bodies, rot, and vomit especially as the attacked prisoner screamed. Her wails shattered all hearts but his.

“I’m sorry!” Shackled to the prison wall with thick steel chains, his captain of the guards squirmed and screamed. Her name is Candance, she is the first, porcelain necklace with a sugar cube charm marking her as the bearer of the Sweets Feaster Pendant. Just like him, she had grown as well, and her body had improved greatly from her previously ill-nourished form. “I did not mean to, sir! I did not know! I promise.” But King Candy did not pay her any mind, instead, he glared at her chest as it slowly reformed and solidified allowing the shiny porcelain necklace to stand out again.

“Why isn’t it coming off?” He mumbled, taking a hugely deep breath, and blowing out another series of flames, this time the heat of his own internal flames church to such a heat it gave him heartburn. It must come off, it must come off, it must come off.

Candance, just like most other foodies, had a rounded stomach that held her four feet off the ground with her stubby hind paws resting against the stretched bulbous flesh of her belly and had long front paws that were so extended that they could touch the floor without Candance having to exert them herself. Her tail was even longer than her front paws; with the wingless female sweets’ foodie choosing to wrap her long seven-foot tail around her stomach. Rocky Road, chocolate chip, toffee brownie, cappuccino, if you could name it Candance’s body contained every flavor of ice cream that could ever exist; her apple green gumdrop eyes glimmered like stones and her sugar ice cream cone spikes ran from her curved muzzle to the back of her neck before proceeding to wrap around the front of her throat and skitter down to her chest, then her arms, until it eventually stopped at the back of her front paws. Her outfit –like all other guards— consisted of guards’ armor forged from the bones of earlier traitors fortified and coated with steel and welded together to form what he thought was a rather intimidating set of armor. At this time though the armor was not complete as the chest plate had been removed and thrown to a random corner of the cell many hours prior. Candace looked cute in it like many a female foodie.

King Famine knew she would not look so enchanting without it.

“Hey! Leave her alone!” One of the prisoners spoke out, cutting him short of straight up burning a hole through his guard captain’s chest. King Famine paused, his flames dying out as he glared to the side to see a protein foodie glaring at him defiantly with large marinara-crusted meatballs for eyes. “She didn’t do anything!” The prisoner on the other side of the cell was chained to the wall by his wrists; having to have his restraints specially made to his childlike size and stature. He was a nobility rebel who had tried to assassinate him a few days after his reign started, spies like Candance had yet to figure out why he had tried something so foolish. “If you want to pick on someone, pick on me!”

King Famine huffed, dark clouds of smoke flowing from his mouth to join the fog that clung to the ceiling, and smiled. He opened his mouth and shot flames straight into the face of the noble; grinning all the while as the yellow flames seared and melted the flesh of the nobility. The smell of cooking decaying flesh added to the terrible odor even as his target remained stoically silent and still. He had gotten used to the burnings by now. Not receiving a response, Famine closed his mouth and watched as the flame-speckled smoking face of the nobleman pieced itself together to reveal that the rebel was still glaring at him.

Breaking her chains with a swipe of his claws and leaping off Candance; he did not need to look at her to address her. “Candace, you will return to your post, if anyone asks about the pendant you will tell them how I gave it to you to reward your recent promotion,” The scuttling of claws and the clank of steel against stone announced the departure of the captain but he didn’t pay her any mind as he bounced over on his stomach to the other side of the cell. He kept springing over until he and the prisoner were snout to snout.

He reached out and gripped behind the thick metal collar the nobleman wore to dig into the soft unprotected nape of his neck.

Only then did the rebel stop glaring; his cheeks gaining a pink tinge to it as his eyes widened in disbelief and fear. “M-My king?”

King Famine chuckled, his orange slice tongue slipping out to lick just under the rebel’s left eye. “You wish,” He whispered, before opening his maw to reveal three sets of teeth made from bark and thorns and clamping his mouth around the left eye of the protein foodie. His teeth, fortunately, were dull; not made to shred anything toucher than fat which made the agony of the nobility all the sweeter. The flesh was tougher than expected. Refusing to give way at first to the point where King Famine had to maneuver them in such a way that he could pop the eye from its holder allowing the meatball to flop into his mouth. He sucked on it, rolling the orb in his mouth, and savoring the unique flavor of meaty steak and thick tangy marinara, his teeth pressing down on the optical nerve –made from a vein of yellow fat— enough for it to loosen. CHOMP! CHOMP! SNAP! Managing to separate the flesh from the body. The shuttering squealing intake of pain from his prisoner finally told King Famine that his torture method was successful as the now squirming hydra underneath him tried to uselessly kick him off with his hindlegs. It did nothing.

Still holding the eye in his mouth, Famine pulled back from the noble’s face only to dive back seconds later; he still had one more eye to take from him.

Day 191

CRASH!

Her name is Tina, she is the second, the bronze necklace with a charm of a banana, apple, and orange marking her as the bearer of the Fruits Feaster Pendant.

SPL-CRASH!

By the time King Famine had reached the cathedral-turned throne room, still wet within the dressage of his bathrobe, the guards had already apprehended whoever had fallen through one of the many windows built within the chapel walls. But not before they also fell through the cabinet holding the Feasters Pendants.

“P-Please let me go! I did not mean to do anything, I swear! I can pay to get the window and the pendant case fixed.” The glass of the box had been broken like many a heart King Famine had destroyed through the killing of men, women, and children. The sparkling specs of fortified and solidified sand scattered all over the floor in varying sizes along with the now three shiny pendants that he had locked away in that case while he washed up and brushed his teeth for the night. Famine growled; his mind quick to piece together what had occurred minutes prior. She was already wearing the pendant that chose her and another was missing. Just like with Cadence, the presence of a foodie truly destined to own the Feasters Pendant will cause the artifacts to activate and go searching for their owner. In this case, Tina is the bearer and is close to someone who will be the bearer of the lost necklace. Great, now he had this to deal with, what wonderful luck he had. “Money will not do any good, nor is it necessary.”

Squirming within the hold of the guards, Tina –just like most other foodies— had a rounded stomach that bobbed and bounced with each kick of her stubby hind paws and jerk of her front paws which were held firmly against her perfectly preened feathery wings to keep her from flying. Her tail, five feet in length, slapped against the floor in an uncoordinated panicked motion that only succeeded in getting sharps of glass into the thick purple skin of her fruit body. Her plum body was tender, rich, and a deep dark purple; her knees, wrists, and other joints were protected with rounded spikey pads made of the outer skin of a pineapple while her eyes were made of round strawberry slices and her freckled stomach, chin, and neck were dotted with sundried banana chips. Her forehead to the base of her tail was decorated with spikes made from half-cut strawberries. She was pretty with the necklace she now forever bore only doing more to improve her looks as it supplied her with the nutrients that had previously been drained from her. But Tina could look better, her lackluster outfit consisting of nothing but a pair of yellow and blue rhinestoned pants could use a massive upheaval, such beauty needs better attire to grace the public.

King Famine hummed, he should keep this one, it was not often that the royal fruit foodie had company and this one was docile too. It would make it easier to have children with her. Plus, the woman was offering payment, might as well take her on her offer. “King!” A guard, specifically that of a silver-armored Candace barked, her free left arm raising quickly as she stomped a booted claw. “What will you have us do with her?”

Yes, the King mused, what would he do with such a fine specimen? Well, it was obvious, was it not? Not only was she a member of his food group but she also had grown as well matching his exact height.  “Guards, get the tailor, if memory serves, she shares a cell with the nobleman I blinded. I am going to need her now for little Tina here. As for you Tina, there is a way that you can pay me back, many ways.”

Day 291

Her name is Tati, she is the third, the porcelain necklace with a charm of a carrot, cabbage, and tomato marking her as the bearer of the Veggie Feaster Pendant.

BANG!

“King Famine! We found the Veggie Feaster Pendant holder!”

“Ah yes!” King Famine cackled, as he held the manicured paws of Tina in his own, the ruffles of her dress crinkling with each shuffle she made. The two of them both sitting on their respective thrones, which had just recently been drilled into the cathedral floor by the same construction team that had fixed the pendant cabinet during the absence of those two guards. “Thank you for taking so long!” Pulling his bride closer, King Famine planted a kiss on the tear-stricken cheek of his shaking tubby beloved. “Let me introduce you to Queen—Where is she?” Finally turning his attention towards his guards, he glowed, smoke slithering up his nostrils; there was no squirming sister within their shared grasps.

“She was unable to come with us, sir,” The second guard approached, with a crumpled manila folder grasped in her tail. “Due to extenuating medical circumstances.” With a sniff, he took the file and winced at the ghoulish sight that met him.

Tati was ugly compared to his bride. The patchwork hospital gown she wore in the photo especially did not help. Adding to that: she –unlike most other foodies— had a flat stomach so tightened in on her that her ribs showed; her front and back paws tied to the bed as Tati’s bat wings splayed out against the plush hospital bed pillow. Her wings, two sizes smaller than the seven-foot span of her sister, were likely unable to help her do more than glide with her small leathery appendages. They were simply too petite to do more. Her tail, cut short to a stub, did nothing but uselessly lay on the sheets and the wilted worm-eaten leaves of her lettuce frills spotting her spine struggled to flourish forth from the smooth brown potato skin that was notably brown and mushy in places. Her black bean eyes –closed tightly while in her fitful rest— were shriveled to the point Tati, as the king suspected, would barely be able to see with them when awake. She was far from pretty and King Famine shuttered to imagine what the stunted girl had looked like before the pendant had chosen her. If an ancient artifact could not make her a passable beauty, nothing would.

“She is very sick, sir, lack of nutrition has resulted in her going into a severe coma as her body tried to devour itself to sustain herself,” The first guard explained, seemingly refusing to approach him. Smart man. “It is only by chance that the pendant found her in time, able to revitalize her. Due to this and her still quite critical condition, none of the doctors or nurses would allow her to be moved by anyone who is not direct blood family. Mostly to avoid a lawsuit, I suspect.”

King Famine huffed, staring at his dress-clad wife whose white and black ball-gowned apparel highlighted her purple skin well. “Go get your sister, make it as quick as possible, and bring her back here. The longer Tati is out there, the higher the chance someone may want to hide her to use against me.”

The second guard, Candace, spoke. Her satchel bag looked just a little lumpier than normal. “I will go with her! To ensure that she does not try anything, sir!”

King Famine said nothing, listening to the beating of his heart as he glared down at the filled leather bag that rested against the captain’s side. Something told him to check the bag. But that would just waste time, time that he did not have now. “Fair enough, keep her on track, Candace.” The guard nodded, taking his bride out of the chapel where she had just so recently been married and out the castle perimeter as well. It took a few hours for them to get back. By the time Candace and Tina did he had the time to start and finish day court and the once bulging satchel was empty. Suspiciously enough, this was around the same time a certain nobleman was declared missing from the dungeons.

Day 340

Their names were Cedar and Gabe. Cedar was the fourth, the golden necklace with a charm of a loaf of bread and a wheat stalk marking him as the bearer of the Grain Feaster Pendant. Gabe was the fifth, the silver necklace with a charm of a glass of milk and a wheel of cheese marking him as the bearer of the Dairy Feaster Pendant. Both had grown to six feet in height like him and the other bearers, but they still had issues.

Cedar was what King Famine would call sloppy.

Like most other foodies, he had a rounded stomach that stretched the pair of tattered overalls worse. They were plain but compared to certain patchwork hospital gowns it looked like clothing befitting royalty, the suspenders were sewn together with so many mismatching patches of cloth that not one single scrap of the original clothing fabric remained. The rest of him did not help his already quite hobo-like appearance. His body, from his snout to his tail, was made of fluffy twelve-grain browned bread that was saturated in melted butter to the point where the back and chest of his suspenders suffered the worst as the pooling fluid drenched the fabric. His wings splaying out into the world, flourishing through a cut in his clothes, were the biggest feathered appendages Famine had seen. And yet, at the same time, they were the least cared-for wings he had ever seen with the flight-giving gifts he was born with mattered with dirt and bone and leaves. It was unlikely Ceder would be able to fly in a straight line with how weighty his wings were with filth. Thankfully, the rest of him was not as sloppy, as the grain goodie had a strange smooth appearance; lacking in any spines or frills along his form which gave him a youthful appearance most would kill to have. Hell, not even his paws had claws, only empty pink sockets where claws should have been since the day his puberty hit.

King Famine almost felt bad, with such a soft unprotected body it was no wonder Ceder had taken the path of prostitution. What else could a foodie like him hope to do? But still, pitiful, or not, he could not keep a sneaking thought in his head. Is this the best these artifacts could do? Famine thought as he did all he could to avoid looking at the two men who at least had the decency to arrive decent at the castle.

“Hello, my dear King!” Ceder, the first of the male prostitutes chirped, his peppy squeaky voice sounding forced as if he were biting back the urge to wail in agony. Unfortunately, that was just the way the foodie naturally spoke, Famine prayed for his ears. “We came as soon as we woke! Thank you so much for choosing us as the next bearers! We promise to uphold our duty with respect and honor. Right, Gabe?” Gabe, wincing at the sound of his name being uttered, nodded. The foodie had not said a word since stepping into the throne room and had not so much as glanced in his direction once.

Gabe was more put together than his partner.

His outfit consisted of a black and white cow print onesie lacking in any sleeves or legs with what looked to be a pair of bubblegum pink shorts and a peppermint red sweater peeking out from those specific areas. All the clothing was clean. No wrinkles or stains were noticeable. Notably, Gabe did not have a stomach, his belly was not as flat as a certain sickly dragon, but it was way flatter than the norm barely touching the ground due to lack of fat instead of lofting Gabe off the ground as most foodie stomachs did. With a body made of frozen cream white ricotta, the wingless foodie had a short tail that barely came to a foot long with large eggs acting as the spikes that lined the top of the balancing appendage. Each egg was painted with different colors and patterns from polka dot to striped to flower. His face and legs were sprinkled with specs of shredded cheddar and his egg eyes –painted a bright shade of hot pink— were aimed at the floor with the globes of strawberry pink blush painted on his cheeks adding to his bashful attitude. But overall, even though his body was one heat wave away from melting, Gabe was able to hold up for himself refusing to brown-nose the king out of principle. Stupid but respectable in his opinion.

King Famine looked to his right, his queen sat on a pile of frilly pillows that was the skirt of her dress, her makeup well done and her stature straight and proper as a good queen did. “Are you sure these two are not some vagabonds with identical replicas?”

Tina nodded, biting her lip before speaking. “Y-Yes, I am sure, I followed the path the pendants took and watched as both chose them. Gabe and Ceder are the bearers. I-It is a good thing they are the bearers; Tati has been friends with them since she was an egg. She will be thrilled they will be around for her eighteenth birthday since I, unfortunately, will not be able to attend due to…” His wife trailed off, staring down at her stomach, with the muscles in her face twisting into a grimace for a brief second. “…delivery.”

He resisted the urge to smile, just as he had guessed, it had been easy to knock up his bride. Tina had barely resisted and had not even tried once to abort the egg that was growing inside her. Of course, once the egg or eggs growing inside her were laid things were bound to change, right now her pregnancy did not seem “real” so she was not motivated to do much, once the reality of things was pushed out of her it was likely that Tina would do something drastic. But that was not now so it would wait. “Alright, fine, I will show them to their room then, stay out of trouble while I am gone.”

I spread my wings, rather frilly and delicate butterfly wings unfortunately, and took off out of the throne room and down the hall with the ruffle of feathers announcing Ceder’s take off into the air while Gabe himself was left to do his weird walking thing instead of rolling or bouncing on his stomach like all normal foodies did. Not a word was spoken as the younger dragons focused on keeping up with King Famine; turning corners as fast as possible to make sure they did not lose track of their guide. BANG! SMACK!

“Shit,” Ceder mumbled, as his unpreened wings directly resulted in him crashing into walls on either side of him, if he simply kept his feathers carefully plucked and cleaned, he would be flying much better. King Famine looked behind him to see a sight that made his blood boil.

“What the fuck are you two doing?” He growled, stopping as he whipped around fully to take in Ceder and Gabe. It appears he was wrong about Gabe choosing to walk. He, in a lazy effort to avoid doing any physical exertion, had jumped upon the back of Ceder and wrapped his front paws around the other’s neck. Granted, something like this was not too bad, wingless foodies or those who struggled with flight would often jump atop winged foodies especially when they were traveling to faraway areas. But usually, foodies only did this with those they shared a food group with, a dairy foodie dragon such as Gabe should not even have thought that cuddling up with a grain foodie dragon such as Ceder was a good idea. Not during the reign of King Famine, who notoriously hated all traitors with him specifically interbreeders such as hodgepodges, and not with such blatant affection such as holding tails with one another as the two foodies in front of them were doing now.

“Ah!” Ceder went pale, his wings flapping even faster as he looked back towards Gabe who had still refused to get off his back. “I—Uh—Do not mind us, my king, G-Gabe just gets tired easily and I do not mind helping him out with travel. It is okay.”

“That filth is hardly okay! I know you were a prostitute, but I had the thought that both of you were civil men,” King Famine snarled, his claws flying from his nail beds as he glared at the foodies in front of him, ready to strike them down if they said anything else he did not like. Pendant Bearers or not, the king would not allow ones bearing such respected artifacts to sully them with their deeds. “Is that how you two made money? A name for yourself in your respective careers? B-By cannonading with one another?”

“No!” Gabe squeaked, letting go of Ceder’s neck and hoping to the floor. “W-We never and never will do that, I assure you, like Ceder said I just get tired easily.”

King Famine glared at Gabe, clicking the claws on his front paws against one another, it was bad enough he had to give away his power to better protect himself against that stupid escaped nobility but now he had to deal with the Pendant Bearers potentially being podgers. Unfortunately, he could not control the artifacts, but he could control the foodies that directly held the pendants’ powers, with a sigh he let his claws retract. “If I ever see either of you behaving in such inappropriate manners again, I will make you both wish you were dead. Do you both understand?” Gabe and Ceder nodded.

After that, the three of them went on their way, the trip going by with no other incidents. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK. He stopped their intended door, ratting his knuckles against it. “It is open!” Tati called out, her tone sounding thick and strained, odd. Regardless, the king opened the door, to what was essentially a closest with five cots bolted to the floor and walls along with one another for good measure. The only window in the room was one about the size of a dinner plate long since shattered and unrepaired. On the third bed, with enough medication to keep herself healthy and alive, Tati sat. “Gabe! Ceder! Come on in! It is so good to see you!” The bed-bound foodie squealed, with her companions not hesitating to join her before starting to talk to her like schoolchildren.

King Famine rolled her eyes, he hoped the nobleman revealed himself soon, once caught the royal foodie could kill the Feaster Bearers and reclaim the other five pendants.

Day 400

His name was Blake, and he was the sixth, the necklace with a charm of a steak and a butcher knife marked him as the bearer of the Protein Feaster Pendant.

He had been the one to topple his reign. BOOM! Well, that was not completely true, his wife Tati had aided in his efforts as well. “Famine, come out! You are only making this worse for yourself.” Blake ordered, his voice sounding faint –echoing out from somewhere in the thirteen-floor stronghold— as the king flew through the crumbling halls of the castle, dodging boulders of rubble that fell like puzzle pieces from the ceiling and walls; shaking the floor as it slammed against the carpeted halls. He was in the entrance corridor, feet away from the double doors that sealed the outside world away from the indoor world of the royal government building. He needed to get out of here.

BANG! He flew straight into the door, using his momentum to force it open and fly into the outside world so high into the air that he could take in the whole kingdom. He needed to find a safe place to settle down. As much as he would want to huddle somewhere in his birthplace, Fruit County, he could not. All six Feasters would know that is where he would most likely hide and thus find him quicker than he would like. He needed to hide someplace where he could stay hidden long enough to raise an army. Taking a deep breath, he looked around his kingdom, and his jaw dropped. Planet Potluck, the empire for the first time since its founding, was united. The Bay Lands of Dairy County had foodies bearing harpoon spears and gutting knives. The Beach Lands of Sweets County had foodies bearing torches and pitchforks. The Mountain Lands of Fruit County had foodies bearing swords and climbing hooks. The Forest Lands of Veggie County had foodies bearing axes and chainsaws. The Cave Lands of Grain Country had foodies bearing chisels and pickaxes. The Meadow Lands of Protein County had foodies bearing shotguns of all sizes and calibers. All six landmasses and their dragons were united against him.

Ready to fight.

Although, that would not be necessary, with a flick and a snap a vine of grapes suddenly shot up from the castle and wrapped around King Famine’s neck faster than he had a chance to respond and dragged him down towards the earth. He was dragged down. Wind slapping against his back and neck as he kicked and squirmed and tried to use his fluttering wings to pull him away from the vine, King Famine failed. The fruit-bound vegetation was just too strong for him to break. CRASH! His vision flashed through shades of white, red, and beige as the vine finally let go just as was too disoriented from his spinning head and the stabs of pain that erupted from his spine to do anything. SPLASH! The freezing slushy-like texture of apple juice is what brought King Famine back to reality as it soaked his body and the regalia, he oh-so adored. He gasped, jolting to a sitting-up position, but not doing anything more. It was over. His body hurt. The Pendant Bearers, all six of them, were found and the pendants had chosen them. They hovered above me in the gaping maw of the stone and rock castle bridge that had essentially been broken in two by the same vine that had driven me through the overpass and into the creek he lay in.

Candace, Tina, Tati, Cedar, Gabe, and Blake all glared at me. Neither the wingless nor the winged of them needed to fly as they all hovered in the air several feet above the ground. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and indigo; their pendants each glowed their unique color which bathed them in a similar colorful outline that surrounded them from head to muzzle. They radiated a power that King Famine was unable to own even when he had all six pendants strapped to his neck, for that power had not been mine as much as he wished it. I wonder what they are capable of. That was the last thought he had before a twisting beam of prismatic light bathed and froze my body and my mind utterly still.

Day 1

Tati and Blake stared at the egg. It mocked them. It was a lovely egg, all things considered, forged from bark the deep purple and orange speckled egg was bright it was just as big as a soccer ball. But it and the young inside it were a threat to the very planet if it grew up to be anything like its father. “Are you sure you want to keep it?” Tati asked, the waves of anger rolling inside her making it harder for her to stay calm and steady. “You do not have to. We can smash it, freeze it, boil it. Anything really to keep the egg from hatching. It is not murder, after all, if it is still a yolk.”

The massive hollowed-out apple tree that Tina had grown in the place of the demolished castle was quaint in comparison. Only about four stories high and twenty feet in height; the tree was made from brownish-orange wood both inside and out with windows lining each level of the somehow still apple-bearing tree which bore not only one breed but all breeds of apples. On the first floor Tati and Blake were present; having huddled up into the bedroom of Tina after hearing of her very recent birth. They were the only Feaster Pendant Bearers who had been able to visit her on such short notice, especially due to the civilians outright begging them to take on the roles of Kings and Queens of their respective food groups. Tati takes in the bedroom. It was barren. Tina had not taken the time to decorate, only doing the bare minimum which included creating a bed made of roots with green vine covers sewn and braided together to create the bed sheets, and that was it. The place seemed lonely, but Tati knew her dear sister –wrapped in bedsheets and licking the egg she had just given birth to free of blood and birthing fluids— did not care. She, like Tina, only cared about the egg and most importantly its developing contents.

“No!” Tina snapped, still bathed in sweat with her face still dripping with the tears that she had shed while giving birth to the egg in question. “I am keeping it, I am not sterilizing it, I always wanted a child. It does not have to know its father, we can wipe King Famine and his whole line from the history books for all I care, but I will not kill it because the father just so happens to be King Famine. That would be cruel.”

“I never said I wanted to kill it because it happens to be related to King Fa—”

“You did not have to, you are my twin, we have known each other for over twenty years! I know what you’re thinking, and I know how much you hate children to begin with. The fact that this child is a descendant of King Famine only compounds and even verifies all the hatred you have for a child that has yet to hatch!”

“I never said I hated the egg, yes I hate kids, I cannot stand their stupid squeaky voices and I shudder to imagine giving birth to one let alone multiple of them, but I only brought up the idea of sterilizing the damn egg because it will be better for everyo—”

“Better for everyone? Or better for you? Do not look at me like that, you are always so focused on what people think, it is why I bent the knee all those months ago and agreed to steal valuables and cash because you wanted to cake yourself up with makeup so that you could be pretty like those fake looking nobles the moment you were out of the hospital. If it were not for you, I would not have been anywhere near the castle, but—”

“Alright, that is enough,” Blake rumbled, the protein foodie stepping in front of the veggie-fruit sisters, making sure to face her sister. “We are not going to make you get rid of the egg if you do not want to. But just know that you do not have to raise it if you do not want to or find that you are incapable of doing so given the circumstances, there are plenty of mothers who lost kids during the famine and would love to care for a hatchling. Alright? Again, this is only a suggestion. Tati, I, and the other Feaster Pendant Bearers are more than happy to help whenever we can aid you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Tina nodded, her eyes darting left and right, she was considering the idea of adoption. Tati hoped she took it. “Well, I am going to have to ask you to leave, now. I need to nest and rest before I get to whatever paperwork that has piled up.”

“Sure! Sure! Of course!” Blake said, turning around, and motioning for Tati herself to start walking. She obeyed, heading for the door just as he was wrapping up the conversation. “If you need anything, contact one of us or all of us. Also, do not forget, we have a meeting at The Milk Bar next Saturday at noon.”

Tina yawned, shuffling on the bed as she did. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Goodbye.”

Wa-Womp, Wa-Womp, Wa-Womp. Tati still wondered how Blake could be so fast when rolling himself along the ground, but he caught up to her and in silence, they walked through the threshold of the open door and shut it behind them. Click. Finally, Blake spoke, as they continued through the corridor taking the occasional turn towards the closest exit.

“I told you she would not want to sterilize or smash it.”

“I know!” Tati boomed, her chest heating up with the desired flames that she wished to spew. “I know! But I thought she would see some sense. King Famine has done horrible things to everyone and everything he touched! He has done so much damage. Why would anyone want a reminder of that? It is like if you kept watching the footage of when King Famine took your eyes and ate them, you know? It does not make any sense.”

Blake hummed, stopping suddenly by one of the many alternate entrances and exits and turning to look at her with his empty black holes where his meatball eyes used to be. “You are right, that does not make sense, but sometimes it does not have to. Sometimes people can take joy from things that should hurt. We would know that well, huh?”

She chuckled, shaking her head as she opened the door, wincing at the bright rays of buttercup yellow sunlight that nearly blinded her and the smell of slightly acidic rot that filled the air. The kingdom was still recovering from King Famine all these months prior mostly in the form of getting rid of all the old and decayed buildings, foods, and bodies that had piled up over the near year of tyranny. “Yes, we do, but hopefully we can grow from such things instead of reverting to the sins of our past.” Tati blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light as she stared out at the broken but recovering kingdom, and with a small kiss left on the side of her beloved’s face they continued walking.