The Emerald King

Once again Kulg found himself sat in a meeting with the other clan lords. Except this time it was in his uncle’s war room. A far more elegant room than his own back home. The walls were polished white marble, well-lit by glow stones from the Riverlands and mounted on small pillars lining the edges of the oval room. The table they sat at was a long rectangle of oak, the chairs made the same and lined with satin cushioning. Even in its elegance, the room was more homely than the cold stone room Kulg had back home.

Kulg did not share in his tastes but enjoyed the comfort nonetheless. It was better than what he had dealt with during his journey. The old orcs bantered for a time about the emeralds that now sat lifelessly at the table’s center. Kulg noticed they seemed unsure of what to make of it, and yet they didn’t seem entirely surprised by what Kulg had told them transpired near a fortnight ago. This naturally left him more invested than normal during a summit like this.

“It’s clear to me,” Kulg began. “That the majority of you here know something I don’t. So please, indulge me. What are these stones we wear truly?”

The room had gone quiet, save for Gelm who was sipping at his wine. It was clear on their faces. They had things they wanted to say but seemed to lack the courage to speak.

“They’re gems of power,” Maar said, at last, breaking the silence with his withered and sad voice.

“Gems of power?” Kulg said, furrowing his brow. “Please, do tell me more.”

Maar shifted uneasy in his seat, as now all eyes were on him.

“Yes, please,” Klog said, clearly just as curious. “I never knew of such a thing. Why have we not been told of this?

Still uneasy, maar gave a weak response.

“It’s an old tale. One that was once passed down to each of the clan lords upon their promotion. We ceased passing this knowledge with our generation, as it had been years since there was any proof of these gems’ power. I am near my twenty-second decade of life, and never have I seen it. So we agreed to put such legends behind us. Your father knew not about it, lord Kulg. As he came to his position long after us. This is also why you never knew, Klog.”

If his uncle could show frustration and anger on his face, Kulg had never seen it before. Yet this time he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of it on Klog’s face, even if for no more than a split second. To his own surprise, he was not upset. He couldn’t entirely blame the elder lords for ending such tales. They were stories for children, not lords meant to rule over the masses, and as Maar had said, none had seen such a power in their lifetime.

“It seems, however,” Maar continued. “Perhaps those stories had some truth to them after all.”

“Well then,” Kulg said matter-of-factly. “What do we do then? How do the gems work, how do we keep them from harming others?”

Traitor.

The room was once again quiet.

“Better yet, do we know why the emeralds haven’t been an issue until now? Why did my own orcs die, yet I remain unharmed? I wear the damn thing around my neck daily, and never once did I have reason to believe I wore a machine of death around my neck.”

It was at this point Kulg realized he was now standing, both fists clenched on the table in front of him. The elders looked scared as if they would be the next victims of the emerald. He felt a soft hand press gently on his shoulder. It was his uncle, a grim look on his face.

“Let them explain themselves, Kulg,” He said calmly, his face solemn.

Traitors.

Kulg did his best to calm down, realizing now that he had been shaking. He sat back down and poured himself a full glass of wine, downing it in a single gulp and promptly refilling the glass. He gestured back to Maar before taking another drink.

“Tell us then,” he said plainly.

“Allow me,” Geel said in his place. “I’m the most versed in the history of these gems.”

Kulg made no movements and just stared at Geel, waiting for him to continue. Seeing this clearly made him uncomfortable, as he cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly in his seat.

“To put it plainly, these emeralds are what the great warrior Ver Zruhk used to win the last great war over eight thousand years ago. This is why he is so revered in his power. Much information was lost to time, however. To this day we don’t know how it was he had come upon them, only that he wielded them.”

He waited a moment before continuing, clearly waiting for some sort of response from Kulg. He would not give it to him, he no longer cared for endless and pointless prattle. He wanted to hear this story and nothing more.

“What we do know is that these emeralds have the power to store life.”

Kill them.

Kulg’s eyes widened as he shifted in his seat. He felt strange again as if the emeralds were drawing him to them.

“You have my full attention now, Geel.”

“Well,” Geel continued. “they have the power to store life, meaning it can take life directly from one’s own body. The issue with this is we’ve never been able to wield such power ourselves, and as such, we thought it a tall tale. But apparently, the ritual that is done to promote a new lord exists because of these gems. It’s a means to protect us from their power and even allows us to use them.′

“And let me guess,” Kulg interrupted, now heated. “you couldn’t figure out how to use them. So again, you dismissed it as no more than a child’s tale. Does that about sum up what you were going to repeat, yet again?”

Geel was very much uncomfortable now, drinking from his glass, hands slightly shaking.

“W-well,” he stammered.

Traitors.

Kulg rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“Continue the damn story then,” He said annoyed.

“V-very well.”

Geel cleared his throat once again after taking a sip of wine.

“This is perhaps the darkest secret of our people. The reason we no longer commune with the spirits is because of these emeralds. Our ancestors worshipped these jewels so greatly that they forsook the horse spirit in favor of having control over their own destinies.”

“A dark secret indeed,” Klog chimed in.

“Yes… one we did not feel needed to be shared with the public. Why destroy their perception of the ancient hero? The very idea of one’s own power is the very foundation of our society. We refused to take on such a burden, and who’s to say our brethren would even believe us. In our eyes keeping with tradition was the better path. One that would keep the peace.”

Kulg stood up and kicked his seat back in anger, causing the elderly lords to jump in shock. He walked around to where Geel stood, his thoughts racing.

“My brothers died because of your foolishness!” Kulg roared as he grabbed Geel by the collar.

Kill the traitors.

“They died, all because you refused to take responsibility as a Zruhk lord! You have a responsibility to protect your clansmen, and you just shook it off so you could continue enjoying the luxuries of your position. You old fools should have been succeeded years ago!”

“Hold on, Kulg.” His uncle yelled from behind him.

Klog came between them, doing his best to pry Geel from his nephew’s grip to no avail.

“Let them finish, there has to be more to this story. We need all the information we can get.”

Kulg shoved the old orc back and took a deep breath, doing everything he could to collect himself. He took a step back and turned to walk back to his seat before stopping to give his final word.

“You better tell me everything,” he said through gritted teeth. “You won’t like the outcome if I have to ask another question.”

He took his seat as the room remained completely silent, save for the skidding of wood on marble from Kulg’s sliding chair. He made no other movements and said no words once he was sat. He wouldn’t even look at his fellow lords as he stared at the table in front of him.

“Well…” Geel said, breaking the silence with his slightly trembling voice. “As I said, we gave up the spirits in favor of the emeralds. The longer this story was passed down, however, the more it changed and diluted. Even I am not aware of its entire truth, but we’ve come now to agree that the spirit of horse left our world. And I can’t entirely blame him.”

Klog chimed in once again with a question.

“Pardon me, lord Geel, but why would you come to this conclusion?”

Kulg could see the cogs turning in Geel’s head as he thought on how to respond. It was a good question and he was glad that his uncle stepped in to ask it. He was far to close to ending the lives of his fellow lords. Something he felt would benefit his people as a whole. He felt angrier and angrier as this summit continued. Anger that he very much felt was justified but was clouding his thoughts. It took everything he had not to give in to temptation.

Kulg, A faint hollow voice said. It spoke so quietly Kulg paid it no mind as he tried to focus. Somehow it felt familiar as if he’d heard it before. He thought he could hear it speak several times before, but was unsure. All he could focus on now was the foolishness of his fellow lords.

Geel’s voice came up again, continuing his story.

“We believe that the spirit left us because…well, rather simply put, our horses are dumb. They lack the sentience that a beast with a spirit should poses. We know this is the case because of our neighboring clans to the north and south.”

“I see,” Klog said, clear disappointment in his voice.

“Yes, but we are undecided on whether we should embrace these gems or get rid of them.”

“NO,” Kulg found himself shouting suddenly, his thoughts still cloudy.

Take them, the quiet voice said.

Kulg stood up quickly, knocking his chair backward and landing with a loud crack on the marble. At this moment the desire to keep the emeralds overtook him. He could use the jewels to help his people, to better their lives

Take them, the voice said again.

“Kulg, what’s wrong?” his uncle asked, now clearly in distress.

The rest of the lords also stood up, slowly backing away from Kulg

This is your birthright, came the voice again.

“These emeralds,” Kulg said, breath heavy. “These emeralds were gifts to us, by the great Ver Zruhk himself, our very namesake. We need to use them.”

“Kulg,” his uncle said again. “You need to calm down. Drink some wine if it helps.”

They are traitors.

“All of you, even you, uncle. You choose to betray our kind and not use this gift?”

The gems on the table began to tremble and shake, the light they had shown coming back to life. The light was dim at first, gradually growing stronger with each passing moment. Kulg’s clouded mind was now sunk in a thick bank of fog, emotions ruling over his actions.

Wield them, son of Kulron. The voice came again, this time far louder and with authority. These are my gifts to you.

“I’M DONE WITH THE GAMES YOU OLD FOOLS PLAY. WE NEED TO ACT, NOT PRATTLE ON WHILE OUR PEOPLE COULD LIVE BETTER LIVES.”

Kulg couldn’t tell if his words were even his own anymore. He felt the anger, he felt the resentment, he always had. The other lords always fooled around, babbling on about nothing at every meet. He had enough. This time he would act, with or without the others.

The emeralds lifted from the table and soared through the air towards Kulg. He caught both of them with a single hand, as if through instinct, and held them out in front of him. Soon the emeralds on each of the other lords began to glow and shake as well lifting up and pulling towards Kulg, snapping free of the chains holding them in place. Six of the gems flew to his arms, three on each, lining them from shoulder to elbow and sinking into his skin.

His uncle’s flew to his forehead and followed suit. The two in his hand lifted up and separated floating above each of his palms for a moment and then melding into them. He could feel the power coursing throughout his being, blue light emanating from them and enveloping his body. The other lords looked on in horror and awe, unsure of what to do.

“KULG!” his uncle shouted. “Whatever you’re doing, you need to stop!”

Inside the hall, the air grew cold and deathly still. A stillness soon broken by an unnatural wind that could never have been formed by nature. It whipped and lashed around the room, blowing robes into their wearers’ faces and knocking over glasses and pitchers of wine alike; soon to be followed by the chairs and even the large table at the room’s center. Kulg could feel it all, the heartbeat of the elders, the guards outside busting their way into the room at the racket, only to wither away into ash.

“Worry not brothers,” Maar said, his voice trembling. “If the stories are true then we are protected from the emerald’s power!”

No sooner than he had finished speaking did he follow in the guards’ footsteps and withered into nothingness. The other lords attempted to flee, heading for the exit the guards had perished at, to no avail. One by one each of them disappeared, leaving nothing but their clothes blowing away in the ensuing wind. The only one remaining now was his uncle, who made no attempt at escape.

“I am sorry,” he said solemnly to his nephew. “This isn’t you, Kulg. You are better than this.”

Kulg looked his uncle in the eyes as his mind began to clear and his rage dissipate. He lowered back down to the ground, realizing what he had done. The voice from before was gone, leaving him alone to his thoughts. He looked at his hands, now implanted with the emeralds.

“Uncle,” he said weakly, trying to hold back tears. “Why?”

Klog stepped forward warily, making sure his nephew meant him no harm. He placed a hand on Kulg’s shoulder and, like the rest, vanished in an instant. Kulg sat on the floor, crying into his hands, lamenting his treachery. The air was still once again, but the gems continued to glow. He could still sense the life around him and when someone would draw near and try to enter the room he would scream for them to leave before they met the same fate as the rest.

Why do you cry, young lord? The voice returned suddenly as if it had never existed until this moment. Why cry for those who would betray you?

“B-betray me?” Kulg said feebly, trying to wipe away his tears.

Yes, Kulg. They meant to betray you. They knew of my power and meant to keep it for themselves. Even your uncle.

Kulg didn’t know what to make of this voice, his head was pounding and some of the haziness had returned, although still much clearer than it had been.

“W-who are you,” he managed to choke out.

You know who I am.

With that the emeralds, now a part of Kulg, began to glow brighter, emanating a blue aura that spilled out like water from a pitcher onto the floor. It slithered out in front of him and rose, forming into the shape of an orc. His skin was green, like his own, and was adorned in black robes also like his own. However, his face was regal, with a strong jaw and piercing blue eyes. His hair was tied into a thick braid that reached down the length of his back, while the rest of his head was bald. On his chin was a beard that matched his head, braided down to his stomach. He stood before Kulg as if knowing he was of a higher power. A king looking down expectantly at his servant.

“Ver…” Kulg said, never having seen his face before, yet knowing it was the only logical conclusion. He could feel it through the emeralds, the orc hero of Zruhk legend. The very one who gave the Zruhk their name and stories of their power.

Yes, and I am here to guide you, young lord. Your brethren have strayed from the path that is my namesake. This must be corrected if we are to survive.

Kulg looked at him dumbfounded, unsure of what to say.

I can see your doubt. But in time you will learn, for the sake of your people.

Kulg could feel his mind becoming more clouded.

“For the sake of my people,” he repeated back to Ver. “But what should I do?”

Show them your power, I will help to guide you. Teach you. Help you understand the power you now wield. Go now, and gather all who live within these walls, recruit them. Indoctrinate them to your cause. Lead them and gather everyone else whom you have freed this day. Many will find gratitude upon seeing you.

“I-I can’t,” Kulg replied solemnly. “Everyone who comes near me turns to dust. I can’t lead if all I do is destroy.”

The specter looked him over for a time, his face showing no form of emotion.

No, Ver said at last. Only those with evil in their hearts will feel the emeralds wrath. Those who are pure will remain unharmed. Worry not, for many remain uncorrupted, especially within your own domain or Kulron. Now go, be the leader your people need. I will guide you along the way.

With that, the apparition dissipated into a mist that lingered for mere moments before disappearing completely. Kulg felt power surge through his body as the emeralds glowed. He took a deep breath trying to calm his nerves and concentrated. He could feel the emeralds’ energy coursing throughout his body like rushing cold water as if it were as natural as breathing. With it he once again began levitating off the ground, but this time of his own will.

Perhaps this was my destiny, Kulg thought hazily. It makes sense. Why would those old fools be chosen for something like this? They even lied to me with their stories… and my uncle, he was in on it with them. He had to be. Why else would he try so hard to let them speak?

“I have the power I need now,” he said with newfound resolve.

With the power of the gems, he could do anything that came to his mind. His head was still foggy, but it was something he assumed came with controlling magic like this. Slowly he rose until his head nearly touched the ceiling above. His head did not make contact, however, as it crumbled and dissolved upon his approach. He rose higher and higher passing through each floor without resistance, all those he passed turning to ash.

“All traitors,” Kulg said to himself, justifying their deaths.

He reached the peak of his uncle’s fortress, enveloped in the light of the midday sun. Below him, he could see the city in its entirety, along with the fields of crops along the outskirts. Below a mass of orcs gathered to view the spectacle and Kulg happily greeted them with his words, like a father to his children. He felt powerful, he knew none could touch him.

“My brethren,” he said with a booming voice, amplified by the power of the emeralds. “This day we rise as the true children of Zruhk. Who will answer my call?”

The crowd was silent, clearly unsure of what to make of him.

Kulg lowered himself down to their level, as they gathered around him to get a closer look.

“I have been chosen by our great ancestor, Ver. With my power, we shall remove the infestation that has littered our land.”

Still silence.

“Those who are worthy have already been chosen.”

Upon his word countless orcs began to vanish into nothing, leaving only a third of the crowd remaining. Those who were no more than mere children began to convulse into seizures, grew into full adults, while the elderly became young again. The remaining orcs began to reel back in fear, stuck in place, unsure if they should flee.

“Fear not brothers and sisters,” Kulg said with a commanding tone. “All of you who remain are chosen, pure, meant to fight by my side. Those who perished were no more than traitors.”

Upon hearing his words one female got down on the ground and began to bow. The rest gradually followed even those who had just matured into adulthood.

“Together, we shall make our people strong once again!” Kulg said, now a king amongst his peers. “We shall show these invaders, as well as the other lesser clans, that our strength is more than a mere legend!”