Emperor of Legendia
The Birth of Elezabor Mighthorn

The news spread in no time and each and every Legendian was aware of the disaster to begin. Women panicked with fear and acted insanely all over, which was not strange at all; Legendian women being known best for throwing tantrums on petite matters. Gossips and rumours spread across the nearby cities also. Hul and Elgenim being far away from the king’s Castle, feared the most. However, Zimon send assurance of their protection by word. Zimon also sent a message to Olgreg about the sudden showdown and waited for his reply. Meanwhile the ladies acted haywire and didn’t come out of their homes thinking that a messenger might be hiding in their backyards.

“Some have gone completely nuts. They are asking the guards to search the city for hiding messengers.”, Peter said to Marco.

“Does it bother you? ‘Cuz I don’ even care. I’m worried about how my sleeping periods are goin’ to reduce among all the increased training. Baahhh... We just came back from a war.”, Yoyo whined.

Simon nodded, “Lots of hardwork required.”

The four were sitting in Albert Squirrel’s house; a tiny and cosy cottage. Marco was a bit tensed. He was supposed to be the next king. He should be involved in greater works rather than just sulking around. He wanted to tell Peter about what Zimon told him last night, but he never got the chance.

Marco knocked the table softly, “Lads... the king has arranged a meeting in a wee bit and he wants me to invite those whom I feel capable for the assembly.”

When everybody simply stared at him, Marco threw both his hands in the air, “Well, ofcourse you guys are invited.”

Albert sighed, “Well, that was sure to come. Wonder what plans the king makes this time.”

“I must leave now.”, Marco stood up. Peter started to leave with him.

“See you in a while sir.”, Everyone stood up.

Peter and Marco walked out on to the lanes of Urbas Society. Scent of gardens reached their nostrils. The wind had become chilly as the night got darker.

“Marco?”, Peter said.

“Hmm?”.

“You okay my brother?”, Peter asked placing his arms around Marco’s shoulder.

Marco sighed, “Just a bit tensed.”

“What happened last night?”

Marco was caught by surprise and he looked at Peter and smiled, “You read me so well smart knight.”

He told Peter about his bloodline, about his father’s tragedy and the migration of his parents from Irasy to Legendia.

“Hey! Now hold it there...”, Peter’s eyes were popping out, “You’re ` `telling me that you’re a king’s son?”. Peter shook his head and chucked, “Good joke Commander Marco. I am not falling for that.”

“I swear by your name.”

Peter’s giggling had vanished, “Oh boy! You really are serious.”

“That’s just a start. Here comes a bigger news.”, Marco said.

Peter waited, excited now.

“Lord Zimon has passed his successor-ship onto me.”

Peter halted right on his path. “You mean... you are my next king?” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Marco nodded as Peter gained his senses back.

They walked over to a road side stall where varieties of teas are served every evening. Then Marco explained the coincidences of him being a commander and all the extra attention his mother gets from the king.

“What can I get you, sire?”, a large, full face bearded waiter asked.

“Two Zuzmich tea please.”, Marco said.

Peter sipped the finest tea from the plantations of Urbas society, “It fits perfectly into picture, doesn’t it?”, he continued, “You, a royal prince of Irasy, destined to be a king anyway. You never seize to surprise me Marco... brilliant.” He paused suddenly and screamed out aloud, “God I am so happy, my friend. HAHA!” Peter stood up on the small round table spilling the tea and started to do a feet tapping dance. The customers sitting nearby started laughing and cheered up for him. Marco hushed him and pulled him down.

“You crazy foolish lad!”, Marco scolded, “I’m sorry my man.”, he addressed to the waiter who was glaring at the two.

Peter burst out into laughter, “Look at your face. Is that how a king speaks? Crazy foolish!”.

Marco hushed him again, “No one knows except you and I don’t want anyone to know until Lord Zimon himself announces.”

Peter held the back of Marco’s head and said, “My brother, I love you.”

Marco smiled and punched Peter in the belly, “You are one crazy guy. Love you too man. Now let’s hurry up to the castle.”

The castle seemed like a graveyard in a bazaar, so dull and lifeless. Marco and Peter walked into the Great Hall. The hall was empty and unchanged except for the blue coloured light glowing from the candles on the left wall. Fifteen men were already occupying the table in front of the magical throne. Zimon was sitting on Blabber, his staff against the wall. Marco and Peter bowed to the king. As Peter followed Marco to the two empty chairs, he recognized Fred sitting besides Simon.

“Don’t tell me you invited him too!”, Peter whispered in Marco’s ears.

“I did.”, Marco replied under the tone.

Peter scowled and looked away.

Yoyo and Albert nodded as Marco passed. Marlin and Marvelo were sitting beside each other. Some other soldiers of their batches were also present. Crypus Crevol was sitting right next to Zimon facing the soldiers. He was almost going to fall, had the walking stick not there to support him. It seemed as if he hadn’t slept for a month.

“Now, now!”, Zimon stretched his back and said, “I need to discuss things with you lot.” He glanced at every single one down the table. “I see my three Ms, that is, Marlin, Marvelo and Marco have invited their worthy men for today’s meeting.

“Most of you know about it, but I want to freshen up all about why and how this battle has come into existence; for it indeed is very important to know about the Dark Lord’s history, his powers and his ideas before we plunge into a battle against him. This for the first time will be nothing like the battles you have faced until now. This is not only going to be an ordinary battle of swords and arrows but a war of magic too.”

Simon nodded in eagerness to hear more.

“You need to know the weakness of your foe and that’s the reason we have assembled here tonight.”, Zimon finished and gulped half a glass of water and wiped the dripped water off his beard.

“Meanwhile, do not hesitate to ask your questions.”, Crevol added.

Marlin nodded. Everyone waited in silence. Blabber’s eyes could be noticed wide open now.

“Let’s start with the history of the Dark Lord.”, Zimon said, “All of you are well aware of his name, yet stumble to address him by his proper name. See... fear is what we need to kill in ourselves. There is nothing frightening about him except that he is a worshipper of evil.”

Zimon took a deep breath, “Elezabor Mighthorn, the Dark Lord, who practised the darkest form of sorcery from ‘Chakuzlam’.”

“Chakuzlam? Where no man can survive for more than a day?”, Marco interrupted.

“Mind you, Marco... Only a person possessing true evil in his heart can lead his whole life in Chakuzlam and evil is the trait that Dark Lord never lacks in.”

“Sorry to interrupt but does this mean that he was a man before, my lord?”, Fred asked.

“Ofcourse he was... Er?”, Zimon squinted his eyes.

“Fred, Fred Spines my lord.”, he said with a pride in his tone.

“Ahh... Fred. The charming archer! You’re in news these days.”, Zimon nodded smiling.

Peter felt his face burning.

“He was not born as a Dark Lord. He was born...”, Zimon paused, “...like us ofcourse.”

“Where does he live?”, Simon asked.

“A bit further south than Chakuzlam.”, Crevol replied.

“The Dark City they say, right?”, Marvelo prompted.

“Exactly,”, Zimon continued, “That what is a rumoured name. But going by the latest maps,”, Crevol spread out a large sheet of map on which Zimon pointed on the far north west, “it is known as the Dark Dume. If you want to know the distance from Chakuzlam, think about Legendia to Elgenim, give or take a few. His empire extends from the reigns of Atil to the end of Chakuzlam. There are three major cities inside the Dark Dume’s region namely, Atil, Brignjo and Hayva. These cities comprises of such men and women who are the sole worshippers of wealth and property whose greed cannot be compared to anybody. They worship the Dark Lord just for wealth. He knows they do not truly believe in him but he needs them to build an army. Thirty years ago, he claimed the world that he would offer them all the wealth and luxuries if they join him. Men randomly from east and west joined his regiment and now await to have his hands on the treasure of Legendia.

Talking about Elezabor, he practised the dark arts in Chakuzlam, where spirits and ghosts habitat in it. It’s not easy...”, he paused, staring at the ground then said slowly, “... living restlessly in the reigns of Chakuzlam... and acquiring the forms of devilries. Excruciating pain it must have been... creating creatures from his own soul, one of them which you witnessed this morning.”

Half of the audience choked when they realized that the messenger was a part of his soul.

“No doubt, he has lost his very own true soul of a human. He had many interests ever since his dark sorcery came into existence, but the most desiring of his wishes has no doubt been to retrieve our treasure.”

“Do the messengers indulge in a fight?”, a soldier asked.

“Not that I know of… as far as I understand, the name itself implies that they are used to convey messages. They might be able to fight, I know not, but their best power is that of reading the minds of people. Anything can they retrieve of what’s going on in one’s mind.”

“Did he read yours today?”, Peter shot a question.

“No... he won’t make a mistake of reading a wizard’s mind.”, Zimon leaned a bit forward, “Lest he would face dire consequences.”

“Coming back to Elezabor... We know not when he plans to leave with the army. But before we make ours, you are required to know how to finish him.”, Zimon continued, “There are three ways of killing the Dark Lord.”

’Oh my-?’, Marco was taken aback. Others had the same expression. Marco never imagined someone’s death would be restricted to three ways.

“The first method is to destroy the forest of Chakuzlam, which is a very difficult task for us. Wizards also fail to do so. That is because we shall have to pass through the Dark Dume to reach the forest and once we’re there, it’s a whole different level of your understanding in destroying it.

“The second way is straight forward. To kill him face to face, either by magic or with weapons.”, Zimon said.

“Magic ofcourse?”, Yoyo stated.

“As a matter of fact, Mr. Mathews, a sword would be much preferable, as magic is his tool of excellence!”, Zimon said, “But having said that, neither is easy. So all I want you to do is fight his rest of the army. Let me handle Elezabor when the time comes.”

Zimon shifted his gaze to Marco and slowly moved his neck downwards while gaze fixed upon Marco and said, “And the third method... I believe you shall never need to know...”

At that instant, Crevol looked at Zimon in a stern manner and then Zimon broke the eye contact and continued, “The knowledge I give you is far more than enough. We would stick up with our second method.”

“Do we have information on the number of his army?”, Marvelo asked.

Crevol bent forward to reply, “We don’t know the total cities taking part in this battle. The Dark Lord must be offering a great deal for more cities to join. So, we suspect cities from the west for now.”

“In addition to that, Irasy has information on the passage of Elezabor’s men through Salaha Desert. That suits us as a good battle field. So anyone has a suggestion for our next tactic?”, Zimon asked.

“I say we sent someone to gather information about the number we will be facing and then plan a tactic.”, Marlin said.

“Not feasible.”, Marco objected, “It may take weeks depending on which city you gather evidence from. In fact, we don’t know where to find the number. I say we just prepare ourselves for the worst.”

“Agreed, but we have around five thousand of our men. If the opposition is much larger, we need more recruitment from Hul and Elgenim.”, Marlin argued.

“I think Marco has a point here. We’re uncertain... I’m afraid I’ll have to rule out your plan.”, Zimon said to Marlin. Marlin sighed and shrugged in disappointment.

Zimon continued, “You are right about the extra recruitment, Marlin. But it means more time in training and we don’t have much time.”

Crevol agreed with a nod.

“Anyone else?”, Zimon waited.

Marco cleared his throat to speak. Everyone looked at him, “Well... it’s a gamble, but worth a shot.”

“Life is a gamble, Marco. Proceed.”, Zimon said

Marco joined his hands together, “Now... My idea is two thousand of our men must ambush the enemy from behind.”

“How is that possible?”, Albert asked.

“Well..”, Marco continued, “Let’s say our two thousand men pass through the borders of Crypto Mounts, skip Irasy, pass the River Tuks and turn to enter the deserts of Salaha from the west. This might help us to take them by surprise and get rid of their long range archers, which are usually in the rear most position and reduce their numbers drastically. Whatever their numbers be... it will create panic if they face us from both the directions.”

“Nonsense! Easier said than done! Not at all practical!”, Marlin grunted and shook his head.

“I see it as not a bad plan to be honest.”, Crypus added.

“Those in favour of this plan, please raise your hand.”, Zimon asked.

Eight people including Crevol and Peter raised their hands. Marlin and Fred were amongst the disagreeing lot.

“Well, I like your plan Marco.”, Zimon said, “The problem that arises here is that Engeria and Gobbut keeps a border control for Salaha’s entrance and exit. And we know not of whom they support; us or Dark Dume? And for this, we will have to ensure whether they are with the Dark Lord or not.”

“Leave that to me.”, Marlin exclaimed. His reaction was a bit hasty. “I am in good relations with Jassim, the Engerian Lord Commander. So he will let me know the story.”, he said confidently, “And I’ll take the responsibility of the two thousand men keeping them under my command.”

“But again we have the same time constraint... that of riding to Engeria and back to Legendia.”, Simon stated.

“Not exactly,”, Zimon smirked, “Here he need not come back. Marlin can remain there and convey the message to me from there itself. Leave that to me.”, he added when he sensed confusion on his audience’s faces.

He turned to Marlin, “Taking responsibilities and risks has always been your passion. Have it your way then. You must flee soon before the coming dawn with the fastest horse and reach there well in disguise. Remember, it takes twenty days to reach Engeria on the fastest horse with the least breaks you take.

“As for the other three thousand, we will enter straight from the village of Pindo to face our enemies. So, Let me first know of the tidings which judges our plan.”

“What if they are on Dark Dume’s side?”, Fred asked.

“Then I’m afraid, we clash five thousand men head on with Elezabor’s men.”, Zimon said.

“Remember now, we need the same courage we used to fight other cities. Elezabor Mighthorn might be a powerful opponent, but only pure hearts attains true victory in the end. I need all my faithful men to put on as much energy as we can, for once we finish the Dark Lord, there would be no more battle for us to face because it might label us as invincible.”

Zimon gazed at all the strong faces, “Anymore questions?”

Simon raised a hand, “It isn’t related to the battle but just curious...”

“Go on...”

“How does burning or destroying Chakuzlam kill the Dark Lord?”

“All ya’ heard was that from all he said!”, Marlin laughed.

Everyone laughed.

Zimon smiled, “It happens so, that practising evil from that place requires your soul partially to live in Chakuzlam. This is the other half of the soul. Killing the soul in Chakuzlam or killing the Dark Lord, anything will do, for neither can survive without the other part of the soul. Being uncertain of the exact place where the soul must have latched on to, the whole Chakuzlam needs to be burned down.”

Zimon waited for other questions.

“Why was it dark when the messengers came to Legendia?”, Albert asked.

“Being born in darkness of Chaluzlam, messengers hate light and create darkness wherever they go. It’s just there way of existing.”

“I presume everything is clear.”, Zimon said.

Some nodded, some kept quite.

“So now it is time for us to prepare. Marco and Marvelo, I need you two to visit me daily from now on. And Marlin will be out of city tomorrow?”, Zimon confirmed as Marlin nodded.

Zimon motioned all of them to leave.

“Peter, you leave. I’ll join you later.”, Marco whispered to Peter.

Peter left with the others.

Marco waited for Crevol to exit in his super slow speed.

“Yes Marco?”, Zimon asked, looking exhausted.

“My lord, I will just bother you with one last question.”, Marco uncovered his sleeve, “Does this sign on my lower arm signify something?”

“Marco, it is late. Yes it does signify something, but you will know it soon yourself… rest for tonight because tomorrow will be a start of continuous unrest.”

Marco bowed, still confused. ‘It didn’t come as a birth mark, he realised, much more secrets yet to be unveiled!’, Marco thought and shook his head in vain and walked through the dark lanes of Urbas Society.

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