Emperor of Legendia

The Dark Lord accelerated with all his energy and knocked Zimon on the ground. Dark Lord, still in pain casted a spell via his staff but Zimon blocked it. Cloak soaked in blood, Zimon stammered as he stood up. Running out of breath, he made a second attempt to strike at the Dark Lord, but he failed. The Dark Lord had disarmed him with a spell. Zimon was tired and his strength was fading away. Dark Lord seized the opportunity and sprung over his chest and knocked him down. Blood dripped down all over Zimon’s beard.

In complete agony, Marco looked at Fred lying on his left and Zimon on his right. “Peter!”, he shouted, “Cover Fred. He’s still alive.” He saw Fred choking hard on the ground.

Marco ran towards the Dark Lord in full pace with his sword tightly gripped by both the hands. But before Marco could land a strike, Mighthorn flickered his fingers and Marco swirled over in the air, rolling thrice before landing on his head. Marco screeched in pain. Peter called out for Marco but he could do nothing as he was guarding Fred from the intruders. Albert and Yoyo joined Peter for helping him. Fred bled profoundly. The Legendians reduced to one thousand three hundred and fifty six only. They were surrounded by around three thousand of Mighthorn’s men. All had lost their energy; both the rivals. Marvelo’s eye was bloodshot and he helplessly looked at Zimon lying on the ground with the Dark Lord knelt down over his chest. Marco could hardly see things, with pain bursting in his head. Everyone stopped again. No one moved. Soldiers landed on their knees to catch their breaths. Everyone wanted to have a glance on the Dark Lord and the king. The Dark Lord summoned Zimon’s sword to fly in his grasp. Clenched tightly in both his hands, he raised the sword high over his head pointed downwards.

‘NO!’, Marco tried to call out but all he could let out was a moan.

While Zimon laid there fearlessly, the Dark Lord descended the sword with all his might and sunk it deep in the ground just beside Zimon’s head. The Dark Lord was bent down, his face over Zimon’s. Zimon could see his red eyes glaring down, beneath the mask.

“Are you going to kill me, Elezabor?”, Zimon said in the most cunning tone ever.

“There is no point in killing you, Zimon!”, the Dark Lord replied, “You have already lost... both your battle... and your treasure!”

“What?”, Peter gasped. Marco’s eyes widened. Zimon remained expressionless.

The Dark Lord stood up besides Zimon and said, “You foolish wizard. I was the one who ordered Farwohm to send his troops down to Legendia and destroy your city and castle. Your kin must already be dead by now William”. He ended the sentence in a mockingly pitiful tone.

Marco’s heart beats grew louder. Fear burst in his eyes as he visualized his mother back home. He remained unmoved listening.

“And by now, they must have found the path to the treasure. What greater punishment can I give you other than this? You must live, William, to witness the destruction of your city... to see the corpses of your men and women.” The Dark Lord let out his evil high pitched laugh.

The Dark Lord turned towards his men and said out aloud, ’My dear ones... you have fought well. A great reward awaits you. Grieve not for your loss, for they are in a better place now. Come my dear ones. Let us return and celebrate our victory.”

Mighthorn’s men howled like beasts and cheered over their victory. They praised the Dark Lord and raised their arms up in the sky. The Dark Lord slowly ascended in the sky and disappeared into the clouds. His men jeered at the Legendians as traced their way back from where they came from. Zimon waited for them to disappear out of sight and asked everyone to remain still until they cleared the battlefield. Zimon groaned as he stood up and pulled out his sword. Marvelo ran to him for his aid, “You alright, my lord?”

Zimon nodded as he raised his palm. All eyes rest upon Zimon. Marco slowly stood up holding his head and looked at his king. Zimon’s white cloak turned scarlet. Just then they heard Peter shout, “He’s going to die!” Marco ran up to Fred and touched his neck to feel the pulse. He could feel a slight pulse but his skin was cold. Marco saw Zimon approaching. Marco cried out aloud, “My lord! Can you do something? He’s freezing.”

Zimon knelt down and placed his palm over Fred’s eyes and closed eyes half open. He started murmuring. His hand gave a sudden jerk. Zimon took a deep breath and said, “He will die. The poison in the arrow has spread completely.”. He stood up and started walking.

“But do magic! You healed men before!”, Peter blurted.

Marco shouted at Peter, “Peter!”

Zimon turned calmly and said, “Magic cannot change a man’s fate. I tried to save him but he has crossed this world and he is closing death and magic does not bring a man back from dead.”

Peter still protested, “But he is still alive!”

“I CAN HEAL ONLY INJURIES!”, the king roared. His voice echoed in the silent desert. The Legendians never witnessed Zimon this angry before. He sighed deeply the next instant and calmly said, “My magic read his destiny and his destiny does not permit magic to save him.” Zimon strode away from Fred. Marco sensed the pain in Zimon’s voice.

Suddenly, Fred started to shake vigorously and before Marco could hold Fred in his arms he laid there peacefully. What shocked the onlookers was that Fred actually smiled for a moment before he took his last breath. Marco was about to leave the scene when a bright white light flashed from the whole body of Fred. The light glowed with such a great intensity that it blinded everyone close to Fred. And then it was gone. Fred laid there unmoved. Zimon was witnessing this with eyes widened in astonishment. Confused with what just happened, Marco looked up at the king expecting for an explanation. But Zimon turned away stating, “There are a thousand others who have lost their lives today. Fred is not the only one.”

Zimon healed Marco and Marvelo and then the other injured ones for the rest of the evening. He was drained out of strength after healing a few. So he ordered to search for his white bag that he bought on his horse. All belongings were either messed up or lost but the soldiers managed to find a few. He pulled out the healing potions and leaves he got from the treasures. Then dipped the leaves in the potions and asked the injured ones to eat.

The dead were collected and laid side by side. They were laid in three rows. The row seemed to be unending. “My lord.”, Marvelo said while panting, “We have no strength left. Men are falling unconscious in the middle of work. I don’t think we can bury these thousands of men today. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow. The sun is also setting.” The water bottles were all broken and the water had spilled on the ground. The food could not be searched. Either Mighthorn’s men stole it or it got crushed during the battle.

“We cannot afford to wait. The sand will soon shift here when the sand storm changes its direction. They will be covered in sand soon. They died with pride and honour and the desert will shower its sheet of protection to such people.”

Peter took sword and placed it on Fred’s chest, who laid among others. “You won the challenge, my friend. You are undoubtedly the best warrior I’ve ever seen in my life.”, he said as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Come, Peter.”, Marco placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter stood up and said, “He must not have saved me, Marco. What a waste of life just for the sake of my life,”

“Then I would have died without you, Peter.”, Marco replied, “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Marco remembered what the Dark Lord said about the treasures. He ran up to the king who was preparing his horse. “My lord... we must get back soon to Legendia. The treasures –

“- we will not go back.”, Zimon interrupted, “We will head to Irasy.”

Marco was shocked, “But, my mom... our men. What about them?”

Zimon looked up at Marco, “Our mission is not yet over. Moreover we have to find out what happened to Marlin and his men. So, we will take the army to Irasy and the two of us will go back to Legendia just for a day’s time.”

“But that will take too long!”

“Leave that to me.”

“Yes, my lord.”, Marco bowed and walked back Peter sitting on his horse. Albert came up to Marco. He was fit and fine with just some minor cuts.

“Yes, Albert?”, Marco sounded tired.

“Did you reckon again what happened with Dark Lord and lord Zimon?”

“What are you talking about?”, Marco’s mind was in no state to think.

“The Dark Lord, I mean...”, Albert continued, “.. did the Dark Lord really spare the king just so that he can witness his destroyed city?”

“What do you mean?”, Marco squinted his eyes.

“Don’t you think it is a bit insane for him to spare the king’s life... I mean, it would be his dream to get rid of lord Zimon. I’m sorry I’m being positive in all aspects... but this question is haunting me for a long time.”

Marco did not say anything but various questions surrounded his thoughts and he stood still amidst the moving troop.