Emperor of Legendia

“How’s my sister? You saw her?”, Peter asked eagerly.

“I saw them. They are completely fine... nothing to worry my friend. They all have moved to the village of Hul on Lord Zimon’s orders.”, Marco replied.

They were sitting in their barrack. Marco recounted and explained everything to Peter about what happened in the presence of Olgreg and Zimon.

“So that sign shows that you are a king?”, Peter shouted with excitement.

“Sshh.. a heir of the royal blood.”, Marco said and sighed. “Legendia’s condition is horrible, Peter. Everything is destroyed.”

“Yes, I wish they suffer no more.”

“HEY PETER!”, Marco almost shouted and his voice turned a few heads in the barrack. He quieted down consciously, “Peter... Well you know... er... I kind of sneaked off into a secret cupboard behind a secret wall... in the school while fetching the mirror.”

“There is a secret cupboard in there?”

Marco nodded waiting for an equally anticipating response. Peter folded his legs on the bed excitingly and said, “Well, Marco! Don’t make me wait!”. He crossed his arms.

Marco looked around the barrack as the last of the soldier left out for breakfast. It was early in the morning. “Close the windows.”, Marco requested.

“Done! Now what?”

Marco pulled out the book from his inner pocket.

“WOW! DISCLOSING dark arts... Sorry!”, Peter lowered his voice as Marco glared at him.

“You’ve really got naughty hands, Marco. There must be something really secretive lying in it... open it, quick!”, Peter said impatiently.

Marco stared at the black cover. He opened the book slowly. Peter coughed slightly as the smell of the old dusty page caught up in his nostril. “It seems as if it has been never touched since ages.”

Marco nodded curiously.

What appeared on the first page was a foreword:

Iahwin Rhaufauldo, a renowned wizard, comes from the mighty city of Saberon. Being originally written in Saberonian language, this book is translated by Steve Theresau in much widely practiced language English. Even after being acknowledged as the most strongest wizard in the world, Iahwin believes that there is yet a lot for him to learn in order to become the most superior wizard of all times. Iahwin have been researching and studying on all the aspects of the dark arts for his entire life since he started learning magic. Regarding his...

“Alright, alright! That’s boring stuff!”, Peter interrupted and turned the page.

“Contents...”, Marco uttered. There were only five chapters. Marco scrolled down the chapters written in bold capital letters:

CONTENTS

1. CREATING DARK ARTS [1]

2. VARIOUS FORMS OF DARK MAGIC [6]

3. CHAKUZLAM AND ITS EVOLUTION [13]

4. HEALING CURSES FROM DARK MAGIC [16]

5. DESTROYING DARK MAGIC [20]

“Let’s read it from the beginning. It’ll be interesting.”, Peter said.

“No, Peter. The others will be coming here any moment. I guess we’ll read the last chapter.”, Marco suggested.

“Yeah, I hate to admit it, but you speak sense.”, Peter agreed.

Marco turned to page number twenty. The words were all written in pure black ink in a very beautiful artistic handwriting.

5. DESTROYING DARK MAGIC

(Approved by the WWWC)

This has been the most difficult area of research. Many scholars experimented different tasks to find out solutions to defeat dark magic. Destroying dark magic mainly refers to the killing of the soul that is practicing dark arts. However, as mentioned earlier in Section-14 of Chapter-4, healing the curses is also referred to as destroying the dark magic.

However, under this chapter, we shall discuss the various ways of getting rid of Dark Lords. As per the knowledge attained from the past incidents, killing the Dark Lord confines to three possible ways:

1) First and the toughest method is simply a ‘duel’. The first Dark Lord known to history, Azchowanzer was killed by a mere sword by the wizard Thevin Growl of Prussia roughly two hundred years ago.

Only a highly skilled wizard can accomplish this duel. A normal person has no restrictions for this task but there has not been any evidence of a non-wizard ever defeating a Dark Lord. Highly advanced and powerful spells are required so that a sword’s blade can reach the Dark Lord.

2) Going back to Section 8 of Chapter-3, we discussed how Chakuzlam came into existence and what sort of creatures can live there. This forest is the only place where the Dark Lords commence their dark arts. Chakuzlam inhabits spirits, demons and phantoms of evil yet unknown. While practicing dark magic, the human needs to submit his soul in the heart of Chakuzlam. Thus, the second possible way to kill a Dark Lord is by destroying and burning down the complete forest. Chakuzlam can accommodate four large empires in it alone, making it almost impossible to do so. It may require more than hundred wizards to fight all the spirits and demons all the way through the forest. Chakuzlam is believed to be the most powerful form of nature and thus wizards and magicians don’t really mind its existence.

The forest is harmless for those who stay away from its borders. However, this is the last method anybody opts for.

3) The last method is the most extraordinary and the most cruel-some of all. This was discovered just ninety years ago when the fearsome Dark Lord ‘Bhoze’ prospered the evil on this land. Unaware of this method, people of Irasy accidently used this method in frustration and hatred which resulted in the unintended death of Boze. All they did was...

The door of the barrack suddenly opened. Marco shut the book all of a sudden in a jerk jumped up. It was Jack and Reiford who entered. Peter snorted at Marco’s reaction.

“What’s the story guys?”, Jack asked.

Marco glared at Peter. “Nevermind.”, Peter brushed it off.

“Er... we were just heading out for breakfast.”, Marco said and slipped off the book in the inner pocket.

They walked out of the barrack when Peter said, “Man! That was some interesting stuff in there.”

Marco grabbed the chair closest to him, “Yeah. Let’s have our meal first.”

The Irasian soldiers were already being deployed to Hul, marching in groups past the barracks. The morning was beautiful with a scent of dust wrapped around the field.

He stared and stared and stared at it. His eyes were locked at the Merlin. Crevol sat on his chair in front of the Merlin’s Mirror hanging on the wall. Crevol closed his eyes several times reckoning his next step again and again. Crevol silently locked the door and was chary of anyone’s presence.

Crevol slowly crept towards the mirror with his walking stick. There was a strange fear in his eyes. The wrinkles were unmoved as if all the muscles on his face have died. Crevol took a deep breath and nodded to himself. He kept looking at himself in the mirror. His sticky lips slowly opened up and he let out the words at last in a trembling voice.

“Elezabor Mighthorn!”

Crevol’s reflection slowly disappeared and transformed into...

Crupus let out a horrifying gasp and backed off immediately. He stumbled over the chair and fell down.

“This cannot be... cannot be... cannot!”, Crevol reiterated, breathing hardly, recumbent on the floor.

Crevol shook his head vigorously and shouted, “Merlin’s Mirror!”

An overturned chair appeared in the mirror with Crevol slowly coming into view as he stood up moaning and chafing at the chair.