Vevic stood atop the hill and watched the village burn. The villagers had put up a meager fight. An armed band of men had met her army in the fields just west of the village. Her chieftains had met them there, leading a swarm of her little green skinned warriors into a make-shift infantry charge. As spear, sword, and shield began to clash, a second group had come in from the flank. The village men (and a few women) had fought bravely, but the result was a foregone conclusion. It was simply a question of numbers.

From there, things evolved to pillaging, burning, and other activities uncomfortable enough that Vevic preferred not to dwell on them. Instead, like any good queen of darkness, she had decided to supervise and observe from a nearby hilltop. A comfortable chair and glass of Mynkhish white wine kept her company as her honor guard of hand picked goblins stood watch.

Below, she could see her goblins had encircled a barn where several families were barricaded inside. Her goblins, true to form, were gathering stacks of straw and were placing them around the outside of the barn as they worked to set the whole thing aflame. Vevic had seen this play out before. However, as she listened to the worried cries of the women and the angry shouts of the men, she wondered if there wasn’t a more equitable way to approach this problem.

She had been considering this for some time now. A week at least. While she sympathized with the plight of the goblins – as a people, they had been brutally suppressed for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years – she saw no reason why this needed to end with the burning of women and children. Women and children were useful to her. They made good slaves.

A good queen of darkness had to be forward thinking like that.

However, she had to admit that she still needed to think about it. Sure, on the one had there were things like watching people burning alive and then feeling guilty about it. She didn’t like that part. Especially where the dead babies were concerned.

On the other hand, there were the issues she had with the humans themselves. You see, goblins were easy. Most of them were stupid and those who weren’t stupid were far too afraid to do anything that went against her wishes. This was why she had stuck with the little villains so far. They were dumb, easily bullied into submission, and very expendable. In fact, goblins were so expendable that they seemed to expect it. In a way, this made sense since their very survival as a species likely depended on them either out breeding their competition or their perceived usefulness by more powerful entities such as herself1. Humans, in contrast, were exactly the opposite. Not only did they generally resent being dominated and enslaved, they expected to be at the top of whatever food chain might exist. Which was exactly why Vevic was not intervening as she watched the outer walls of the barn catch fire.

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She sipped her wine and continued to contemplate the matter. Just what was an evil queen of darkness to do?

Things had been going well, she had to admit that. Ever since escaping her step-father’s dungeon, she had not only found safety and security, but had taken command over an ever growing horde of (mostly) sentient monsters, and as a result, she was now poised to take control over a large swath of Sommerdale. However, while all this pleased her greatly, her success had also come with its share of concerns. For one, would there be a point where the Empire eventually sent someone to deal with her? Moreover, if the Empire sent someone, what kind of someone would that be? She had heard of this Empire, which was ruled by an Empress, who was advised by her High Council, who were all appointed by said Empress. It had made her wonder if she couldn’t carve out something like that for herself. And if so, how exactly would she go about doing so without drawing the ire of someone or something much larger and more powerful than herself. Because if there was one thing that Vevic was keenly aware of, it was that she hadn’t even touched the limits of her own potential. Which meant that, inevitably, there were dragons, or wizards, or knights, or monsters, or other things out there that could easily be more powerful than she was. At least for now.

Which brought her back to the barn that was slowly beginning to burn.

There were children in there. Specifically, she had seen a young blonde girl led inside by a man covered in blood. Humans were touchy when it came to their children. Vevic remembered how her mother had felt when she had found out her step-father had less than honorable intentions with the two of them. This made her think about what her mother would think about that little girl trapped inside that barn.

Which brought her to the same conclusion that had been stirring inside her mind for some time now.

“Brightfeather!”

Almost immediately, the goblin appeared at her side. “What would you have me do, mistress?”

She gestured lazily toward the barn. “I want you to go down there and tell Grishna and Hellcat that they’re to offer everyone in that barn safety in exchange for their servitude. And then I want you to tell them that if they find any more women or children alive in the village that they’re to make the same offer.”

Brightfeather bowed deeply. “Of course mistress. Will there be anything else, mistress?”

She swirled her wine for a moment, then waived him off. “No, get to it.”

Her goblin attendant hurried off and just as the flames were beginning to light the roof, she watched Grishna step forward and shout something toward the barn. A moment later, the barn’s front door swung open and the small crowd of people rushed out. Hellcat, visibly restraining his bloodlust, herded the survivors toward the base of the hill.

Mother never gave me much instruction when it came to war crimes. I suppose a true queen of darkness would have watched the lot of them burn. Perhaps next time I will.

She knew she wouldn’t though. She never did. She just didn’t have the stomach for it. Voices screaming in pain. The smell of flesh as it burned. The charred bodies. It just wasn’t her. She wondered – and not for the first time – what that might mean about her. She certainly wasn’t heroic, but she also wasn’t all the way evil either. Perhaps she was some sort of muddy gray, or maybe it was as her mother had always said. She was just young.

Hours later, after the village had been properly taken, plundered, burned, and most of the men put to the sword, she found herself watching Brightfeather march up the hill toward her. As her attendant reached the summit, she nodded to the captain of her guard to let him pass.

Brightfeather took a knee as he looked at the ground. “Mistress, I have come to inform you that a rumor has started among the goblins.”

1For those of you keeping track at home, this is what’s called ‘social evolutionary programming.’