My story

[Arwen]

I know, and I appologize to anyone who is annoyed by me. I am just getting used to this site. Anyways, go Paul! Chapter 4 come on!

 

[Die Kaiserin]

By popular demand, Chapter 4!
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4
Memories of a Shadowed Past
As the group made it back to the castle, there was a feast to enjoy the safe return of the beloved prince. The group ate in silence as musicians played in the great dining hall. A large fire burned in the fireplace and they sat at a long oak carved table. There was meat and steak with wine and fresh baked bread and rolls. Exotic fruit also lined the table, it was a glorious feast indeed. Paintings of past king s and coat of arms hung along the walls as the flames danced shadows across them. Afterwards they all joined in the main hall where the Prince sat next to his father as Kalin was knighted past commander and into a captain. Then the prince stood
“Captain Kalin Dragonfire, for saving my life I am in your deepest gratitude. I present you with these items. A Sword created from the silver mined in the mountains of my region, dyed blue to show your speed, and the white cape of valor, to show your courage in battle. Take these gifts as a way of saying “Thank you…”
Kalin returned to his room and took off his gold armor and red shirt. He slipped on a white shirt with Farron’s symbol sewed into it. He then put chain mail over the shirt and finally wore light blue armor that covered his arms and his shoulders. His gloves were made of blue dyed leather. His white cape tied to his shoulders and flowed down onto the ground. He wore his whit pants with light blue armor that covered up to his knees. His black boots were tied and he slipped the blue sword into the sheath it was crafted for at his belt. He looked at himself and realized that this was who he was. This is what he would wear from now on. He knelt down to pray when suddenly bursted in.
“Kalin! There is going to be a fight between the generals! It is Umbra versus General Taharas.”
Umbra stood in the circle of a mob of knights and squires, his lone figure a shadow against daylight. He stood wearing clothing darker than midnight, his armor covered only his shoulders which held his jet-black cape. His sword too had been died black. Umbra carried a long katana blade, rumored to have been used by an ancient civilization. He stood upright with no fear in his dark blue eyes. Kalin shuddered by just looking at the man. He had heard stories telling of his dark presence, but nothing compared to the fear he felt now. Taharas stood in his full armor, leaning down in a crouched position despite the heaviness of the armor. His long broad sword covered his entire body length, and half the width. Umbra moved like the wind, it just barely had enough time to whisper where he was. His swift, fluid motions enchanted Kalin. He had skills beyond anyone he had ever known, even his father. Umbra came like a typhoon. He swirled upward carrying the sword across the opponent as he did. He landed and jumped back, forward, left, and finally in front of Taharas to slice deep into his arm. Taharas screamed. He dropped the mighty sword and fell to the ground. He had not even had time to think before the next attack came. Umbra swiftly spun around, like water surging in the ocean, his arms outstretched, one holding his sword. As he spun his sword connected with the others chin and with such might; he rose the other to his feet by the sword.
Taharas stood for a moment, blood spilling from the wounds and fell back. He coughed, blood squirting out of his mouth. His eyes searched around as if to say, “What happened? Why me?” and then he thought no more. He body seemed to sag within the armor and two loyal captains came to drag his body out. Umbra stood at where he had killed the man, sheathed his sword and began to walk away when Kalin ran out into the circle. During the fight amazement turned into fear, fear into pain, and pain into hatred. He unsheathed his sword with a metallic ring as it let lose of the sheath. He ran with such speed as he outstretched his sword and stabbed deep into Umbra’s left arm as he turned to see what has happening. Umbra looked at Kalin, then at the deep wound. He said nothing. The dark figure let the arm bleed as he pulled his own sword out and raised it at Kalin. In a sudden rush of time, it seemed only to stop for Kalin. All he saw was the sword being thrusted forward. When time began to come back, he saw Crysts standing in front of him. The sword had passed through her stomach and only slit his. Umbra’s dark icy eyes stared into Crysts’s. He felt no sympathy.
As he pulled his sword from her stomach and walked away, Kalin let her body fall back against his. It all came back, Crysts yelling no and running in front of him, trying to protect him. It was happening all over again. He was losing everything, why God? Why! His hand sifted through her almond hair. Her emerald eyes had closed. He thought back, sixteen years, when they were both four. He thought of how they played at the crates that were being shipped in on every morning. He let his mind slip away into that past…

 

[Die Kaiserin]

• • •
“Father is going away again! I am going to miss him.” Kalin looked up with tears coming to his eyes. He sat upon a small crate marked, W E A P O N S. He and Crysts played together after that trying to take away the sad thoughts when “he” came. It felt like almost a disruption in his memory, but somehow it was there. A boy walked by, ten years old. He wore mostly black except for his brown boots. Kalin looked deep into the boy’s eyes and began to shudder. It was Umbra. A very scary boy, who most of the young kids feared to even speak about. He was a “special knight” in training, kids would say. Umbra wore a dark black cotton shirt with dark black pants. His sword, a small knife, hung on his back around his neck, sheathed. Umbra blinked slowly as Kalin felt sweat form around his forehead. The teen slowly curled back his lips into a smile and nodded to Kalin who shuddered once more. Umbra finally walked away from the opening where they played. The two buildings surrounding the play place now felt like bars to Kalin. He slowly went after Umbra, despite the yells of Crysts.
Slowly Kalin crept out onto the main street. The town yelled back at him in warning that it was Merchant’s Day. People filled the street, old and young all surging to get to marketplaces for new goods. Kalin heard one merchant telling of his special mineral called Mognite, but no one believed its worth or existence. Kalin kept surging through the crowd weaving up and down, sometimes through the legs of selected few. He finally came to a clearing in the back of the group, and while still looking back began to run. That is when he ran into yet another person. Again, the person felt like an intrusion. But as Kalin looked up he saw the face clearly. It was his dad. The large knight bent down and looked at Kalin.
“Son, what are you doing this close to the road of the castle? You know better.” His father’s voice sympathetic.
“But daddy! I was only-“ When Kalin realized his mistake it was too late,
“You were only what Kalin?” His voice was stern this time.
“I was looking for someone.” Kalin scratched at the ground with the tip of his small boots. Suddenly a voice called out from inside the mighty gates.
“General Dragonfire! General Talfon Dragonfire!” Kalin’s father rose and patted his son’s head as he left. Kalin immediately shot off to the left into an apple tree grove that grew rather thickly, and he knew where to go. The small grove grew in front of the old castle. The ran the half mile towards the castle, and then surrounded the northern face of it. The castles many parapets stood tall against the sunshine of the summer day. He quickly wove his way through the branches, keeping the scars to a minimum. When his finally came up to a clearing in the exact center of the grove he sat down on a stump and breathed out heavily. Kalin turned and walked toward the castle and continued running until he rached a wall. He felt along it for some sort of crack.
The grove was not meant to be a thing of beauty, but of concealment. The King used it now and then to be a means of secret escape for men in his castle. Kalin pushed against some stones and dusted off the edges of them as they budged. He outlined a cut in the stone of bricks about the size of five and a half feet tall, and three feet wide. He gently pushed and the entire outline pushed forward. He then slid it to the side and emerged into the courtyard of the castle. He stepped into another thick set of maple and apple trees. He swiftly made his way through the trees and out into the bright sunshine. His shadow chased at the tree’s roots. All about him spanned cobblestone ground, some chipped, but most were polished like new. To his left, he saw the gates of the castle and in front of him was the inner most castle, the true fortress.
The courtyard sat in front of the moat, drawbridge lowered. The courtyard expanded for a quarter mile around the castle, and then gave way to grass. Following the grass to the back, one would find the southern gate and the stable. The courtyard was actually split into four sectors. North, containing most of the cobblestone, West, containing half cobblestone, half grass, and the west gate, East, containing cobblestone and grass, and finally South, containing the west gate and the stable.
In the North Courtyard, trees grew in intricate patterns and the sun beat down. Kalin quickly stole his way across the courtyard, using what shadows could be found. He made his way to the moat, climbed down to the edge of the water, and slipped underneath the bridge. He sighed, it had been close many times with the watchful guards and archers at the eight peaks of the outer wall and the towers of the castle. Knights patrolled along the archways and paths on the outskirts of the wall.
Deciding it was safe, Kalin plunged into the water and swam to the other side. Upon climbing out he hopped onto the drawbridge and slipped inside. As Kalin came into the castle walls, he seemed to be afraid of the sudden shadows. The flames upon the walls lit up the long passageways. Light shone through from the outside and filled the halls, warming them. Two staircases spread out before him, both carpeted with velvet silk. Two halls split off to his left and right, dozens of doors going off each. The stairways let off half way to the second, mid-floor. Rooms led off each, presumably hallways. However, at the top of each stairway led to the royal hall. Kalin stole up the steps quickly while the guard was not watching. Inside the hall, he stood in the shadow of the corner, immediately after the doorway. The hall was laid with a strip of velvet silk leading to a pair of heavily guarded, steel doors. Tapestries hung on the wall and portraits of past kings. Majestically carved, oak tables displayed silver and gold plates. Kalin looked to the wall on his left, pushed, and slid into a hidden hallway.
After closing the hidden passage behind him, Kalin walked down the torch-lit passage until he came upon its end. He pushed the wall at the end and it opened into another closet size passage. Upon its end is when he turned to his right and slowly opened another passage. He peered through the crack he had opened and stared at the King, his son Ballonius, and another whom he could not see through a bush in front of his view. The passage was made for only a few reasons, Kalin figured. One, in case the King needed to come around the doors for some reason, like if they were being attacked. Two, for assassins to have an easier route to the King. And three, for kids to eavesdrop. This passage made Kalin have much less respect for the creator of the castle, obviously someone who lacked intelligence.
King Farron stood from his throne of gold and ivory. The King looked around the room, gold laced everything and paintings of his fathers and their fathers before them hung along the back wall. Windows allowed sunlight to warm the room and bring light. The silk curtains were closed, however, and only torchlight lit the room. The floor was golden tile and blood red carpeting with silver woven in intricate patterns lay in front of the throne. The King was truly wealthy, owning half of the existing land does that.
“Rise sons. I need not be honored by my own princes!” The unknown man said something as he rose but Kalin did not catch it. Ballonius hit his brother upon his arm.
“Such disrespect for our father! Forgive his rudeness.” Farron waved off the comment and sat down. He motioned them to sit in their golden seats, situated next to their mother and father’s thrones. Kalin still could not see the other child but dismissed the fact and kept listening.
“My dear sons, a new King has come to power in the opposing realm of Knarcalias. His new army has gained morale from his many victories against the Sorphius retaliation group. He is now a threat to Lalilce.” A small bit of laughter formed at the lips of Ballonius. “Silence! This is no joke! King Vance has…”
Kalin lost the memory and floated through time. He could not remember anything else. That was the first time, however, that he heard the name of Vance, “the Evil Tyrant of Knarcalias.” Two years after that, Lalilce and Knarcalias went into war. Year after year, Kalin’s father left for the battlefield, each time he came back, as promised. Now turning twenty-one, the wars had lasted from when he was six to now. On the sixth year of fighting, Vance had reinforcements come from across seas. The reinforcements came from Palipython, a known war port and ally with Knarcalias. The armies of King Farron fled back to the mighty castle of Morning’s Breeze, the King’s castle. His father had died in that battle…

Kalin ran through the street, rain pelted upon the ground and lightning flashed, lighting the city. Kalin stole through the darkness, winding through houses and tents, either burned or destroyed. He heard cries from innocent people, then heard the cries turn into gurgles of blood as it flowed from their mouth. King Vance’s men stormed the down, killing everything in sight. He heard sword’s metallic ring as it connected with another weapon. Kalin stole behind a large town hall and peered around the corner into the main street. The coast looked clear, all he need to do was make it to Crysts’s house! The twelve-year-old looked at his friend’s house. It still stood, unlike his own. He ran madly out into the street but slipped and fell to the ground. Kalin heard his leg snap, he felt a crack surge through his ankle to his knee. Tears formed at his eyes, but as he looked up he saw a knight looking at him. The man laughed and held his sword up with two hands, ready to pierce into Kalin’s body. Suddenly a cry came from behind, and the man was thrown, head over heels, onto the ground. Behind where the knight stood was Tyris, a youth Kalin had befriended. Blood drained from a cut across his forehead and fell to one knee. Kalin looked to see the castle’s glorious outer wall begin to crumble, and then collapsed almost completely. Cannons fired from the town, knocking of chunks of the castle, but then the fortress returned fire. Tyris picked Kalin up and they both limped across the street to Crysts’s house. She came from behind an overturned stone table and held a small dagger in her left hand. He let Kalin lay down on her bed and treated Tyris’s wound as best she could.
After what seemed like days, Kalin sat up only to find it had been an hour. He wrapped a cloth around two pieces of wood on either side of his leg and stood. His leg would heal, he thought. He walked out to find Crysts and Tyris looking at what used to be Morning’s Breeze castle. Air flowed away from him and fell to the ground. He stood, walked up to a fallen body, picked up a sword, and ran off. He charged through a small group of knights and ran on. He finally made it across the destroyed drawbridge and found a deserted field of death. The castle’s ground floor was all that remained. Columns stood, broken in half. Bodies lay everywhere and the sound of pain and moaning was evident. Stairs led to a collapsed floor, and rubble scattered the large area. The once glorious castle was now a ghost, forgotten. He peered around and ran up to remains of some stairs, taking his to a room that still stood. He looked through a collapsed wall, seeing parts of the second and third floor that still stood. He soon realized that mostly only the front part of the castle had been destroyed and that, although somewhat destroyed and cracked, the back of the castle still stood. He ran through a collapsing hallway and found several other hallways that led to the back. He periodically asked fallen soldiers of his father’s whereabouts, but none knew. He soon made his way to a fallen out portion of the royal chamber.

 

[Die Kaiserin]

A pillar stood, halfway crumbled with a man leaning on it. Kalin gasped and ran up to his father. He saw a deep wound and his father held it tightly, blood seeping out in large amounts.
“Father! No…no! Who…?” He looked up at his father, his face chiseled and war scarred. His black hair gave him a shocking and honorable appearance. Kalin wore light brown cloth pants, his white shirt covered by a black tunic. His blonde was hair beginning to turn black like his father’s. Talfon looked at his son. He smiled but it could not hide his pain.
“Oh son,” he stroked his mighty hand through Kalin’s hair. “I’m going to be fine. I just need to rest.” A thought came into his father’s mind and he sought to speak but only spit up blood.
“Father! Who attacked you?!”
“It- it was…ahh.” Kalin hugged his father and his father spoke, for the last time,
“Son…never forget your name…you are a Dragonfire, your grandfather was given that name by the King, symbolizing his everlasting service…You must continue that oath…Never forsake your name…You are…a…warrior…protect…the kingdom…and…Cortinis…” Then he kissed his son on his cheek and slumped back against the column. Kalin hugged his father for a long time. As he stood to walk away, a man appeared. Corlaane smiled weakly. He appeared to be wounded. Kalin was confused, of all the times he sneaked into the castle, he had never seen this man! He looked at his clothes and realized he was an assassin.
“Your father was attacked by King Vance himself while defending your King. He fought bravely and well, but in the end…Well you see what happened.” As the assassin walked away he looked back, “After this battle, the King is going to need knights…Just a thought…” With that, he walked away…

• • •
Kalin floated back into real time and found himself leaning on a small wooden bed, Crysts laying on it. She was asleep, blood was caught in a white gauze put on her stomach. He stood suddenly and glanced at her face, she was truly beautiful. He turned at the sound of a man walking in. He was about five foot five, a tiny man with almond brown hair. His eyes matched his hair and he had a friendly presence about him.
“Oh, you have awakened Kalin. You are to do report to Master General Hailstone immediately.” Kalin did not listen
“How is she!” The man took a step back but regained himself.
“She is fine. The sword did not damage any vital organs, a very lucky case I would say. Recovery may take up to a month. The sword did go through, though, which is what baffles me. You almost died, but she seems to have taken very little injury!” That was enough for Kalin. He walked out of the room and into a hallway. He looked to his left and saw a pair of large, wooden double-doors that led to a garden. He took the path to his right and halfway through turned right again into a main hallway. Doors spanned off the main hallway, one led to the cafeteria for Kalin could hear the sounds of knights and squires eating and drinking. Kalin never had a taste for alcohol, it smelled badly and tasted as bad as it smelled, sometimes worse. He strolled past a few rooms of selected delegates and nobles who were staying in for a few days of politics with the King. It had been a dry summer, barely any food and many fires. Kalin hated politics, he solved it all with the blade of the sword. Is that right? Is it right to repay killing with killing? Or to repay stealing with stealing even more? Kalin pondered on his logic when he passed from the main hall into the grand hall. The grand hall was twice the size of any other stone hallway. Blood red carpeting now had gold threaded into it, unlike the silver thread in his memory. The King was richer these days, more content. The captain walked from the Grand Hall to a smaller hall that branched off about ten feet from a pair of shut double doors. Kalin walked steadily through the hall and turned to climb a pair of stone steps. He walked from the steps out into yet another hall and turned to his right walking to the second door.
The door was wooden with golden border around its apparently new polishing job. The wooden door hung before him. A gold plaque with the words “Master General Hailstone” engraved into it. Kalin hesitated, then knocked. He heard a shuffle from inside the room and finally the door opened. Hailstone was a man in his mid thirties. He was in good shape, his blond hair a streak of light against his dark brown eyes. He face was marked from countless battles. He wore his armor and looked very cheerful, yet serious.
“Come in Captain, I have been waiting for you.” Kalin tried to explain but the general waved it off. Hailstone led Kalin into an all oak room. It was large, enough for maybe six people to live in. It had a brand new, feather bed with crimson sheets. A desk sat against the back wall. Light poured in from a window that led to the sun lit hallway. A large skin from a brown bear lay on the floor, mouth gaping open at Kalin. A small wooden table held alcohol, Brandy, Scotch, Wine, and others that Kalin could only imagine would knock you out in two drinks. The general picked up a glass and poured a mix of brandy and scotch. He took a long sip and motioned Kalin to a small table with two chairs. The general sat down, his armored body overtaking the chair.
“Would you like a drink? Wine perhaps?” Kalin kept from showing his disgust of even seeing a man drink and simply said no. Hailstone took another drink and breathed out.

 

[Die Kaiserin]

“Kalin, I heard what happened. I am very sorry. However, this came to me today.” The armored man tossed a scroll over to Kalin and the knight unrolled it,

Dear Master General Hailstone,
I am sorry to disrupt your recent homecoming but there is an urgent matter at hand. The barbarian horde, the Coral, and the renegade group, Sorphius, have united under one leader. This new leader poses a great threat for he used to be a knight of King Farron. He controls a large group and had already taken out castle Arkonius in the Kalipson Mountains. Our scout says it has become their new base. He has many smaller groups that have taken over towns and villages. We need reinforcements at my current castle of Griffinblade, this is reported to be his next target. We also need a large army to take back Arkonius and destroy any remaining generals that did not come to attack my castle. While we destroy his army here, we can destroy it completely with the hidden attack. Please help us!
Signed your friend and servant to the King, Duke Vanicson.
Kalin was confused. What did the Master General want? Surely, he knew Kalin would not leave Crysts’s side during this time of recovery.
“What is it you want me to do with reading this scroll?” The general shifted his heavy body and the chair creaked underneath all the pressure.
“I have assigned you, Kalin, to go with the attack heading for Arkonius.” Kalin was appalled. His voice gave it away along with his face. He stood and yelled and he did so.
“You assigned me to this mission without my consent! How dare you think I would leave Crysts! Nothing, absolutely nothing will make me go!” Kalin looked into the general’s piercing eyes.
“ There is rumors that the new leader is-“ He was cut short by Kalin
“I do not care who he is!” The general continued to speak as if Kalin had said nothing
“-Tyris.” The captain was stopped dead in his tracks.
“No… I cannot believe Tyris would do that!” Hailstone was getting impatient
“Yes he did! Believe it Kalin, no one is who he or she seem! Everyone has hidden agendas, things that matter more than friendship and even love. Plans keep people going, plans to complete life, to fulfill it. Tyris just found his.” Kalin was angered beyond anything.
“I will not go! I-“ This time it was the Master General who cut the talk short.
“Silence you fool! You forget whom it is you talk to! I am Master General Hailstone! You will go where I want you to, when I want you to! You are my tool, everyone underneath me is! I answer only to the King and no one else. The army sets out tomorrow at dawn, you will be confined in your quarters until then. When you come back I will discuss further punishment.” The general breathed in, and let the air out. He spoke strongly and more in control this time.
“Leave.” Kalin stood. Thoughts rushed into his mind of what his choices were. Before he could decide, however, Hailstone called upon two guards and ordered them to escort Captain Kalin to his room and to not let him out. As the angered knight left the room he saw the master general smile as the door was shut…
Kalin was escorted down the hallway and into the main court. The large room spanned out, gold lace, sliver, and pearl were the most dominant here. The large circular room had four hallways. To the side of one sat , he looked upset and as if he was searching. Kalin was then escorted away…

 

[Die Kaiserin]

• • •
Kilik stood in his room. He was a man in his early twenties. His build was decent, but could use work. He wore light armor, consisting of silver, polished but battered, on his shoulders and a light chain mail worn over his cotton shirt. His white pants were worn loose around his legs, not baggy. His long sword strung across his back, its blade only few feet long and not even a foot wide. had not progressed as quickly as Kalin in the chain-of-command but he was on his way. A captain now, but a general later, right?
Sometimes he did not know why Kalin was where he was. Kalin was a captain who had served for oh, maybe ten or more years. He had met Kalin about ten years ago when they he was but a squire. They had talked and shared stories of becoming knights and saving the kingdom. sat back down. His bed was comfortable, feathers came out from tears, but he did not mind. Why should he? had always been the youngest, had to put up with his older brothers as they tormented him. He had lived in poverty stricken home and left his parents for two reasons, to become a knight, and to save them the trouble of another mouth to feed. rubbed at his temples. A note lay on the desk beside him. The note told of the death of his parents. They had gone hungry and been hung for trying to steal from royalty. Anger and sadness swept through him anew. He was tormenting himself, but he needed it. He had learned to hide from his emotions, but was that right? His thoughts shifted, purposely. He thought of what had happened. Kalin had gone out into the middle of the mob after Umbra. Outgoing as always, only wanting his point to be seen. Curse him! Why did he have to have things done to him, why! He had gotten everything had wanted. Knighthood, status to push around, and although he never like to ponder on it, he had gotten Crysts. thought of the beautiful woman he had always loved. Her almond hair and green eyes. Her perfect complexion, her perfect smile, her perfect love. They had been more than friends for a long time, but when Kalin came… still loved Crysts. He protected her and what Kalin brought upon her was inexcusable! stood and walked out of his room. He stormed down the stone hallway, his metal grieves echoing sound off the wall. He turned to his left at a junction that faced a window. Outside the window, saw the garden of the King. He continued down the hall and passed a small chapel. He heard silent murmurs of prayers as he past.
At last, he emerged out into a circular main hall. A junction room with four main halls branching off. A set of curved windows lined the far wall, they allowed sunlight to flow into the room and warm it with its presence. Gold lace covered the window seal and silver was woven into a red velvet carpet on the floor. Pearl benches with light cotton cushions sat next to each passageway. Silver was woven into the stretched white cloth on the cushions. sat down and braced his chin upon his fist. His anger showed on his face. Again, he thought back into his past. He remembered his training to be a knight. It was a year after Kalin had been accepted. He sparred out on the open field and grasses swayed in the wind. A wooden dummy sat before him and he struck at it with his makeshift, wooden sword. An instructor came by in between the different sparring stations. There were twenty out raining on that day and each were at the same point in skill, terrible. Except for . He had a hidden talent for the sword and had secretly practiced daily from his eighth year. The instructor walked by him and saw his progress.
“Very good but, you must use more form. Swing fluidly and lightly. If you put to much force is in one blow, you will be uneven in the next. Use your strength sparingly.” After that had begun private sparring with his instructor, improving his talents beyond those the castle taught. He became fluid in his strikes, and it had saved him many times. His sword was an instrument that was played softly yet very earnestly. His teacher died after three years of training. The thought stung even now. The man had been a second father to him, or more of his first. He taught him everything. His real father had beat him and hated him. However, this man had shown love and care, something he had never experienced. He had gone into a time of complete withdrawal when he had died, never coming out of his room. He had never cried. It was as if all tears were taken up in his childhood. Suddenly came back into reality when he heard footsteps coming from the opposite hallway. Two guards escorted Kalin through the room and into the next. looked at Kalin, the figure of his most cherished friendship, but also his source of rage.
He sat there, contemplating his life for the better part of the day. Periodically people would pass through; he gave them no mind. His thoughts were all focused on how his life had come to the state it was at. He resolved to this, His life was as much as he had made it. It could be made more, but that all depended more on his future actions, than his present. He realized that anger was not the way he should handle his life. Anger spawned only more anger. His love for Crysts may be unchanging, but why dwell on something you cannot change? He came to the realization that he should now treat her like a sister, turning his love in a different direction. Kalin was no longer a trivial matter either. His anger for him was of his own making. Kalin had done nothing intentionally, therefore he was not to be held accountable. Kilik had always been silent about Crysts, showing that Kalin had no idea of their relationship. Finally, life is not something to look at and say “Why is it like this? Why me?” but more of something you look at and say “Well, I made this happen, so how can I fix this?” or “My life may not be good now, but I can change it.”
With these thoughts in mind, Kilik stood up. The windows showed the dropping of the sun. Its glow, a low, dark, reddish purple. As rounded to corner to the main hall he thought again of Crysts and decided he would see her after tomorrow morning. He then turned into his room and sat on his bed. The knight looked around for a while, and finally released the latching oh his armor. He lay down in his bed and began to think of how his life had come around. His mind wandered to the chapel he had passed. A chapel, a sacrilege temple of a religion the king found that everyone should have. Finally, Kilik drifted off to sleep and dreamt of his life…
He awoke with sweat running down his face. had never had such dreams before. The very thought of hell, it scared him into remembering something Kalin had once given him. stood, walked over to a small oak closet, and released a piece of wood that covered a secret hole. He pulled out a dust-covered book and blew off most of the loose dust. The rest he wiped away with his tunic. The words on the book’s front read “The Bible.” Kilik returned to his bed and sat down once more. He turned to a chapter in the book named “Matthew.” All this time, had long since forgotten these things. He began reading through the book and found what he was “looking for.” He read through and up to Matthew chapter twenty-seven. He began reading of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, and how he rose again. He read of his power and might and how he promised to come again. His mind and his body found a joy he had never thought possible. was driven that he read clear through the night and into the morning. Upon closing the book, knelt before his bed and began to pray.
“God, I never really have talked to you before. I never knew of your love, your power, or even your story. God…” He began to cry but kept going, “ God, I need you. I need your strength for mine was not enough. God my life had been nothing but failure! In you Lord, however, I find peace, rest, and forgiveness! Lord how great your might is! Please God, I want to accept you now as my Lord and Savior. I give my life up to you! Please be in my life, protect me from my enemies! Lord I need you…”
Hours more passed, and Kilik sought and found many answers to his life. His new found respect for Kalin was amazing. He stood up and looked out his narrow slit in the stone blocks at the sky. Clouds, dark gray clouds swallowed up the sky. Giant gnashing teeth crept across the sky, devouring the sun. The day looked no different to Kilik , rain or shine he still was excited. He quickly grabbed onto his lightweight, metal breastplate. He placed a small dagger inside his boot. He pulled his long sword from the casing and looked at it. One thing he learned was about battle, and how it should truly be fought. He sheathed the long blade and attached to his leather belt. He stepped out into the hallway and wove his through the halls until at last he reached the infirmary…

 

[Arwen]

Ow! Go Archangel! I love you your my hero!! wooo! I can't wait until you publish it! If you still are planing too!

 

[Die Kaiserin]

Yeah, when I finish it (it is now 90 some pgs ) I will publish it...I hope to finish it in 2003. So, if you see it on the shelves next Christmas...buy it! 

 

[Arwen]

wow! Paul doing great! I wish someone would read and or comment on my first chapter! lol You have to give me your story when everyone else inline is finished!

 

[Die Kaiserin]

Yeah, and I hope she will get done soon!

 

[Arwen]

post chapter 5 now! I have nothing really to read in my spare time, so post it!! Unless you don't want to. My brother is coming home on the 25th!!! YAY!!!

 

[Die Kaiserin]

Here it is, Chapter 5:
-------------------------------
5
The Colossal and Ardire
Valis awoke with a start at the sound of thunder. Another flash of lightning followed and then the rain fell. It came in mighty droplets, beating the ground in a rhythmic way. Valis was leaning on a small wooden beam, one of four that held up a pyramid like roof. Underneath the roof sat an open square. The square sat atop a hill and was surrounded by forest. A cobblestone path led off one side, down into the forest and then disappeared. It wove through the vast brush and a tiny swamp. Its end was at a large wooden “temple.” The temple was used for fighters like him. He wore no shirt and only a pair of light, cloth pants. Valis was of large build, a very strong muscled man. However, he was not so muscled as to prevent quick movement and reflex. He was known at the castle for being one of the only men who used no sword. Although he disliked the idea, Kalin made him wear some armor in battle.
Valis had been traveling to the castle for supplies and for an old master that lived there. His son was the man who ran the dojo. At the time, his name was Valisirolus, which in his language meant “One of superior strength.” He had come from a nomad tribe that was forced to settle in Lalilce once the war started. Since his tribe was formerly nomad, they spoke a language spoken in other parts of the world. He used to see flashes of other places, places of abstract plant and wildlife. While in the town he noticed another monk leaning against a small stone hut. Valisirolus walked up to the monk and greeted him by saying “J’aisui, dunai jou seuvee vaoyal maaster?” Which translated into “Greetings, do you serve the royal master?” the monk smiled. He was in his young teens, maybe thirteen. His build was regular, and his arm was only branded with one black stripe. Black stripes indicate level of skill and level of nobility. The young monk replied by simply saying “Luit. Topelle shwuiere dui.” This translates into “Yes, please follow me.” Valisirolus followed the boy around some houses and through a small patch of flowers and up a stone house to a small dojo. Its size was considerably smaller than that of Kallipson, or “Forests strength.” The monk led him into the dojo and through a few doors. He passed through room with many young and old fighting and training. Finally, the boy stopped before a small set of steps. He gestured for Valisirolus to keep going and abruptly turned around. Valis stepped into the room after walking up the steps. When he walked in he saw a bed and a man in his mid Fifties standing in front of a window. His hard face was beginning to show signs of wrinkle but his body was so in shape that it barely matched up with his face. The master wore black pants and no shirt. On his arm were branded six stripes, the sign of extreme royalty among monks. Valisirolus fell to one knee at once. The master slowly blinked but did not turn away from the window. “Risint. Jou luoku soin gadroilk ko hekp” or “Rise. You have no need to kneel.” Valisirlous rose a nodded his head. “Maaster, gadroilks jou, jo…jo uj layfi…” Which translates into “Master, your son needs you, he…he is dying…” Suddenly the master turned to Valisirolus, and began speaking in the language of Lalilce.
“He…is dying? Who! Who did this?” Valisirolus cringed,
“It was not a man, but a disease. Master has caught pailon.” The master’s face showed it all, pailon was a very rare disease. It strikes people in two ways, you can drink it or breathe it. It attacks the lungs when breathed and grows intricate veins around them. It the detaches from the lungs and goes to the liver and organs. It continues growing and spreads out into the entire body. It is about a half a year long process… When drank the fluids enter your heart. It again spreads out into the heart but stays there. It branches off into veins, either clogging them or following them to where ever they lead and spreading there.
“How has my son attracted the disease?” Valisirolus sighed; he could barely speak to the man in front of him out of fear and respect.
“He has breathed in the disease. We believe he caught it in the Fields of Spring.” The Fields of Spring were a special area inside the forest where there is a small pond. In the center of the pond was an island. The island was small but was the burial ground of the leaders of Valisirolus’s tribe. Surrounding the pond, however, were the flowers called gypsies. These flowers were called thus because of their tendency to trick a predator. At sometimes, the flower blooms with pailon in its pollen, at others it just blooms.
“Master had gone to mourn for the leaders when he thought it was safe. It was not. He begs that you come to him.” The wise fighter nodded.
“I will come to my son. We must leave tomorrow morning. So stay and eat…”
The next morning, or so he thought, Valisirolus woke up with a start. The head master stood in front of him with a sack over his shoulder.
“Come, we leave now. I am too restless to sleep. It nears dawn, let us go.” The man turned as Valisirolus stood, gathered the supplies he had bought and walked out the door. The two stepped lightly through the building and out onto the pathway. The morning was just beginning and a haze covered the city. The master turned to Valisirolus,
“I feel something terrible will happen today. I feel it in the air…” With that the two continued on their journey. It took them two days to reach the forest and when they reached the opening of the dojo two guards came running at them at once. They immediately realized their mistake when seeing the master’s arm and fell to one knee. The dojo master told them to rise and followed them inside. Valisirolus placed the supplies in the hands of a servant and walked behind the master. Wooden poles held the second story above them. All around him, he could hear the yells and shouts of training. The two walked through a main training room and up a small set of stairs to a mid-level room. The doors of the room were uniquely decorated with gold pictures of angels fighting demons. The doors opened and the master walked up to a four-post bed. The posts reached to the ceiling and were painted with gold. The bed spread was white cloth with red velvet sheets. The master knelt beside his son.
“Fa lis ti ton-a?” Valisirolus could not interpret what the two said next for he learned it was in that of a more native language, only taught to nobles. Finally the older master stood and turned to Valisirolus. Tears were coming to his eyes.
“Come, we must bury him.” Valisirolus walked up to his old master. Out of reverence and sadness, he bowed. The warrior then went to the other room and returned with a makeshift stretcher. A sheet of the purest silk was laid on top and on the bottom of deerskin. The silk and skin both wrapped around two oak poles. A few seconds later, two men, who were the top students at the dojo, came to help carry the master. All four men put his body on the stretcher and stood up. As they walked out of the master’s room and down the steps, all the students trailed behind them in a large group. Valisirolus and the master stood at the front of the stretcher and led the way behind the dojo and into the woods. They followed an ancient path for a half-hour until they came upon the island. The forest opened before them with a sudden rush of cool wind. A large, naturally made, hollowed out dome of the forest stood before them. In the center of this wide dome stood a pond. Closed flowers surrounded the water, which was perfectly clear. Valisirolus pointed out the flowers in caution, but the old master seemed not to care. The four continued forward and through the flowers into the water. The group however, could only go to the water’s edge. Valisirolus tried to hide his fear of stepping onto the island. It stood in the dead center of the pond, its grasses exotic and a luscious green. One singular tree stood in the middle of the island and grew all the way to the top of the canopy. Surrounding this tree at the base were graves. Each grave represented another master who had passed away. With only half of the tree surrounded by graves, they took the master to the next section of ground. The second they laid his body upon the ground, it sunk into a hidden hole and was swallowed by ground. The three were astonished but the older master seemed to take no notice of it. They all stood and the master walked to the island’s edge and began to make a speech.
“I know all of you loved your master dearly. I know you miss him. But I also know that you must move on! Yes, move on! Your master “seemed” to have died from the disease pailon, well he did. However, not from the flowers that you stand among! No I will show you what gave him pailon.” The old master laughed very hard. He bent over and when he stood up he pulled knives from his tunic and killed the others in front of Valisirolus! In shock, the two looked down at their pierced bodies. One of them fell into the pond but the other fell into Valisirolus’s arms.
“What…is…g…going on? Why…m…m…me…?” The warrior coughed up blood and then passed away. Valisirolus stood and ran from behind the tree straight into the older master, who was still laughing. The two warriors rolled down the side of the island and into the water. Valisirolus punched and kicked while they sprawled in the water. He received and delivered blows. It seemed like it lasted forever until at last the older master connected with Valisirolus’s face, knocking him out.
Valisirolus blinked lightly. The light pierced through the window and burned his eyes. When he tried to stand, he smashed his head upon strips of metal, cutting his forehead. Blood trickled down his eyelid as he looked to see that he was suspended in the air, confined in a metal cage. He screamed out in anger, trying to crush the cage’s bars. His knuckles cut easily and soon the bars, and his arms, were covered in blood. Valisirolus sat down, boiling with anger. He had failed to protect his master. In one way or another, he had. Valisirolus finally fell asleep.
When he awoke, it was at sunset. The light from the drooping sun revealed that he was somewhere in the dojo, probably in some closet. A window allowed light to come in, and from the looks of it, they were going to starve him. As he lay down to sleep again, Valisirolus heard a yelling sound from outside. Then as he turned his attention to it he realized that there was a battle being fought! He burned with anger even more as he heard he cries of men being killed. He heard cracks and snaps and knew that someone had just died. Then he heard him, the master. He heard a warrior running up to him and saying
“Lajum, we are being pushed back, should we use the weapons now?” Lajum replied but Valisirolus could not hear him. Suddenly Valisirolus heard arrows begin to fly. He was tortured by the cries of his allies being slit open. Valisirolus began to punch with all his might upon the bars. He threw his weight into them cutting his back. He continued to punch until at last what seemed the worst thing happened, he broke his wrist. He punched directly into the bars, perfectly aligning his arm. He heard the crack travel up his hand and through the arm until it stopped at the elbow. He screamed in pain and began to weep.

 

[Die Kaiserin]

After a half-hour of pain, Valisirolus heard a new noise. Someone was calling his name. He cried out in reply and saw a young warrior by the name of Cantille. He and Cantille were good friends, and Valisirolus had become his mentor. Valisirolus noticed that it was raining terribly and lighting flashed every second. Through the flashes, he saw that Cantille was shot in the shoulder and bleeding badly from his leg. He limped through the room and using a metal key, let Valisirolus out.
“Listen to me as a friend Valisirolus. I know you wish to kill Lajum, but I beg you not to.” He turned to cough loudly and then looked back with pain in his eyes. “You must run. He will kill you with his followers and their crossbows. Forget the dojo, for it is lost. It has been arranged for it to be burned. Now run!”
“Thank you my friend.” Valisirolus put his hand on Cantille’s shoulder, “Rathaak shathym.” Which translates into, “You won’t be forgotten…”
Valisirolus had run. He ran through the night and through the day, never stopping. When he stopped to catch his breath, he could hear them in the distance, chasing him. His arm pained him, but he had done to it what he knew of first aid. After a week of hiding from his pursuers, Valisirolus came upon the rebuilding of the castle of Morning Breeze. As he came into the town, he looked around to see all of the wooden scaffolding with people rebuilding the walls. Valisirolus walked closer to the “castle’s” front gate. Small boards covered the moat at the time and the courtyard was being cleaned out. At the opposite end of the courtyard, there were a few men in armor. They sat at a large wooden table that had twenty men in line. Valisirolus knew what they were doing, they were signing up to be knights. At that moment, Valisirolus left his old life to begin a new one. As he finally made his way to the front of the line, the man asked him his age.
“ Shala-“ Valisirolus cut himself short. “Sixteen.” The man nodded slightly.
“Your name?” Valisirolus thought, and then decided.
“Valis. Valis Kaapin…”

• • •
Valis, now twenty-three, had met Kalin like most of the others. Although their age was the same, Kalin became a father figure. They had become close friends and developed a connection. Valis learned the ways of the sword from Kalin, but still used and practiced his fighting. Valis stood. The cold from the storm was getting to him. He had gotten used to the constant warmth of castle life. He prepared himself and then charged out into the rain and lightning. He ran into the coverage of the dense forest. The canopy stretched up hundreds of feet. Valis looked up; droplets of rain seeped through the foliage and fell to the ground. As he continued to walk down the path, he stopped. He turned to look at a completely burnt structure. Wooden poles were charred black, as was most things around them. Valis sighed,
“It was a good dojo…” He changed his path and headed behind the building and into the trees beyond. After a half-hour, he reached the sacred pond. Valis stepped into the water, inviting its warmth. He finally trudged his way through the water and onto the island. He walked over to one of the filled graves.
“Like you said, so many years ago. Rathaak shathym.” As Valis was silently contemplating, he heard a noise. Valis did not move, he waited until he heard it again, confirming someone’s presence. Immediately he slid into the water and swam to shore. He then ran into the brush to wait for the intruder to show himself. Valis waited for what seemed like an hour, finally the man showed himself. He wore a dark cloak, his face was hidden in the shadows. Valis’s mind played all sorts of tricks. He thought he saw his master’s eyes, thought he saw himself, but none of these were right. Valis, after waiting for the man to move, quickly asked him who he was. The man in the cloak laughed hard.
“I am just lost, is this how you treat strangers?” Valis finally came out of the bushes.
“No stranger could have found his way here. Now leave.” The man seemed to smile from within his dark hood.
“I think not. I have come on a mission, and I am going to complete it.” Valis lost his patience,
“No! Leave now, lest I have to “escort” you myself.” Finally, the man laughed as he reached up for his hood.
“Again, I think not, Valisirolus! I think you remember me.” The man pulled back his hood. He revealed the face of Lajum. Valis’s eyes widened.
“You! You are the one who destroyed my life!” Lajum just continued laughing.
“Power comes with many tolls, your life was a minor one.” Valis was furious.
“My life was a toll for your power! My clan was annihilated because of your drive for power!” Valis charged forward, ready to destroy Lajum. Suddenly, Lajum faded and Tyris stood in his place. Valis stopped abruptly.
“Tyris! What are you doing?” Tyris laughed,
“I should be asking you the same thing! Charging at me as if I was an enemy, what were you thinking?” Valis lowered his head.
“Forgive me. I was…thinking. Remembering.” Flashes of Lajum returned to Valis’s mind. “Why must we go on fighting? My entire life was based upon this ‘Kill or be killed’! I desire to fight, to kill, to destroy and for what reason? How can I justify myself when I despise others who kill as well? Tyris, what is the answer!” Tyris took his time to formulate an answer. His face was blank for a moment.
“What you speak of is “world peace”. I have come to that point to, when is enough, enough? The answer is simple. Never. There will never be a world peace. Always will people with power drive for more. As long as others continue to use and kill others, people like you and me will fight on! We are disregarded as useless and expendable!”
“I have found a way out of the circle. I have found a way to eliminate hatred and war! I have become a leader of a resistant group. We fight back against those who want power and war. For how will these kind survive without it? In order to bring the peace you want, these so called rulers must be relieved of their titles, and their lives. When they survive, death, poverty, hatred, sadness, and war survive. Can’t you see this Valis? For Kalin cannot! He is being used by his “king friend”, his title as anything is just increasing his potential usage. All those who do not go against what he is for, goes against life itself.” Valis looked deep into the eyes of Kalin’s best friend. How can he say such things? When he left it was a great loss. Has he become what I and the rest of us fight against? Must I too challenge Tyris? Why can’t I think anything through! I need answers! I need to be on the side that has answers!
“ Tyris, I need answers. That is all I can say!” Tyris nodded,
“I have the answers you seek. Come with me to Arkonius. Fight with the allied army of Ordani. I am the ruler of this group. You will be well met. Come this way!” As Tyris turned and walked over to his horse, Valis hesitated for one second. Is this the right choice? I must not doubt. Quickly, Valis jumped onto Tyris’s horse…

• • •

 

[Die Kaiserin]

Magis listened as he heard the sound of Kalin passing down the hall. A short while afterwards, he heard Kilik walking also. Magis was always the different one. The one who did not drink the one who did not belong. Again, the painful sting of his home entered his mind. His green cloak was already wet with tears of pain. He came from the village of Hamonin. The name was even forbidden among all kingdoms. Two things had destroyed his town. All the kingdoms in the countries, and the town itself. The town had tampered in unholy arts, deemed guilty by destruction by the head court. Magis was little at the time, very little. He had been through much and he felt that the entire town’s future was depending on him. The knight stood from his dark blue bed and walked over to a chair. On the chair were his armor and his sword. Magis looked at the blade of the sword one more time before going to sleep. It read “Jaiu fujmiin et les rehmerance” Translated into modern language it said “never forget”. However, Magis missed his world, his village. The language and the culture had so much more life. The language was fluid and lovely. Tears again. Magis bent down by the side of his bed and began to think. There must have been some reason why all things had happened, some purpose. There had to be a starting point to it all, a Creator. Magis’s mind wandered and so did is eyes until they met up with a small panel in his closet. The edges of a square were barely visible. He stood and slowly walked to the closet and reached up to pull the panel of wood out. Inside, in a very small shelf were the book that Kalin had given him, called a Bible, and a small note. The note read
“Remember, that was always what you believed. I give you a Bible as a truce to be your friend, to help you remember. But please keep it safe, it must never be found. Things are sometimes meant to be learned and some things remembered, but others are meant to be experienced. One of these things is Christianity. No one can describe the feeling of complete joy when one receives Christ. That is a treasure above all treasures. I want you to experience that Magis, this is the greatest thing I can offer you as a friend. Read it and find out some things for yourself…” Underneath the letter, there were verses. Most likely from the Bible. John 3:16, Magis turned to this with much difficulty but in the end, found it.
“For God so loved the world that he sent his only begotten Son. So that whoever believes in him, shall not die but have eternal life.” Magis, after reading several more verses began to cry. Genesis 1:1
“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” Magis read on through the night, never stopping. In the morning, he had read all of the verses Kalin had indicated and more. He knelt down beside his bed and prayed to God, the true and only God, for the first time.
“God, I- I have never done this before. I am so lost and confused and I need someone to guide me. I am a sinner and I need to be forgiven for what I have done! God, please, enter my life and become the meaning of my life…Please…”
An hour or so afterwards, Magis got up from his bed and ran to Kalin’s room. As he burst through the door, no one was inside. He looked around and his armor was gone. Magis’s mind raced, why would he be gone? Magis could not find an answer. He desired so dearly to tell him of his experience, of how it was an incredible feeling. He ran down the hall, running into a soldier.
“Do you know where captain Kalin is?” The knight looked puzzled and then his face lit up,
“Yes, he went with the caravan this morning. They are on their way to the town of…oh now where was that?” Magis cut him off and ran down the hall again, at greater speed.
Kalin trudged along upon his black horse. The fog and light drizzle mixed together to form a dreary feeling. The captain still burned with anger. The master general had no heart! Kalin thought of his beautiful Crysts. How she must still be out. The pain she would feel knowing he may not come back. Then Kalin thought, What if I encounter Tyris? Could I kill my one true friend? Was he even my friend? Why me God? Why me? Then Kalin thought of his father talking of the Enemy. How he tried to beat us down. He also talked about how God put us through trials to test our faith, and to grow stronger in it. The Bible says, he father had once pointed out, that God never gives us a trial we cannot handle.
“Captain, sir!” Kalin went back into reality. He saw an arrow flying at him and jumped off his horse as it struck it in the back. He rolled on the wet dirt and came up on one knee. Arrows whizzed by as he crept up to the other generals.
“What is happening? Are we there already?” One captain looked at him and smirked.
“So your this great captain? You don’t even know where we are? Ha-” The man was cut off by an arrow through his head. Kalin was taken back by the sudden death. He wiped off some of the captain’s blood from his face. The other generals fell back, further in the cover of the fog.
“We are in the plains of Ardire, a small trade city. The water ebbed away a huge chunk of land, leaving a big cut in the land, perfect port-city. It was recently taken over by the resistance group. We are now under attack, as you guessed.” Kalin wanted to know at least a little about the resistance group.
“What is the groups new name, since it merged?” The general asked the captain squatting next to him. The captain replied something and went back to what he was doing.
“Colossal. Nice little bit of pride I would say. Their leader must be wanting to make a statement.” Kalin had to know for sure.
“Has the new leader been identified for sure?” The general nodded,
“Somewhat. Calls himself “The Renegade”, like I said, pridefull. Other than that name we know nothing.” Kalin nodded; maybe it wasn’t Tyris. He was not the pridefull type. Then he remembered Hailstone’s words, No one is whom they seem to be. Kalin then stood with determination. The general looked at him weird.
“What are you doing! Wait for the arrows to stop!” Kalin shook his head. He ran forward, arrows taking out a few knights and squires from the army. He picked up a wooden ladder one had dropped upon death and continued running. He finally made it to the small stream that flowed around the town. Not to big, but enough so to make you an easy target. Kalin waited for it and then dropped down in the water as the knight next to him died. He then examined the wall. Not too big, it wouldn’t be that bad. He jumped up and called for a group of ten knights to zigzag towards him. Kalin set up the ladder and picked up a dead squire. He put the squire’s body on the ladder and watched as they poured hot oil on the body.

 

[Die Kaiserin]

Not good, Kalin thought. Then the group made it, eight left. He signalled them to fall down under an earth mound. He looked at each one, scared and about his age.
“Alright, they have oil up there. We need some fire, you” Kalin pointed to a smaller knight “can you go back and get some torches and flint?” The knight breathed in slowly, then nodded.
“Yes..ssir.” Kalin admired him, he patted him on the shoulder. He then pointed to five other knights.
“You five go around and get some bow and arrows. Find as many as you can, if you get injured, or an arrow comes close, play dead and they will pass over you.” The five nodded and ran off, one was immediately killed. Kalin shook his head. He then turned to the remaining two.
“We are going to climb the ladder when it is all ready. You will need to be quick and unsympathetic. Kill as many and as quickly as possible. You two are the bravest, I can see that.” Kalin looked back at the four knights, they had a total of four bows and at least fifty arrows. Perfect for cover fire. Then he saw the other one running back with torches. He jumped behind the mound of earth and showed Kalin.
“I only grabbed ten, they wouldn’t let me take more.” Kalin smiled at the man,
“Ten will work fine. All right, I want you two to light the torches and stick them in the holes in the ground.” Kalin made an indention in the ground and set the wooden stick in it. The two men nodded and started working. Soon the four knights returned. Again Kalin smiled, “Good work everyone. Now what I am going to do may seem vulgar but it is necessary. I am going to soak some bodies in oil, when I throw them onto the wall, I want you to light your arrows and shoot the bodies.”
Kalin ran into the small stream and put two more bodies onto the oil-soaked ladder. Again the knights poured hot oil onto the bodies and hid behind the tip of the wall. Kalin turned and motioned for the knights to light their arrows. He then climbed a few steps of the ladder. Unexpectedly, they poured more oil. The bodies covered Kalin but a little seeped through onto his clothes. He clenched his teeth as it seared his arm. Despite the burning, Kalin threw the bodies over the wall. Following the bodies were four, fire lit arrows. They struck the bodies and immidiately they caught fire. The knights at the oil tank stood up and flailed their arms. Their clothes and faces were covered with flames, but they stopped running as the fires reached the oil buckets. In a loud boom and splash, the knights on the wall were sent flying, and burning. The explosion left a hole in the outer wall. Kalin knew it was time.
Kalin threw his hand over his head, signaling the two knights to charge. He ran into the city, sword drawn. A knight came at him from a building and struck high. Kalin ducked and brought his sword up and across the knight’s chest. He then spun around and killed another knight by slicing his neck. The knight fell to the ground, holding his neck as it squirted blood. Kalin looked to see the knight’s staring at him.
“I said unsympathetic! Now let’s go!” Kalin charged forward. Already knights had made it in from other sides, fighting with the Colossal knights. He came up to one, sliced down his chest, and shoved his sword in the stomach of another. He continued to fight, killing and striking blows. His arm was cut, his armor stained with dirt and blood. His sword slashed the chest of another knight and met the blade of another. He feinted low, and slashed down the man’s face instead. Just then Kalin noticed the archers around the walls. He squinted and finally saw it.
“Fire grenade arrows!” A clay bowl filled with oil encased the arrow tip. The clay was then set on fire so that the oil would explode when the clay shattered, spreading the fire. Kalin shouted but no one heard. He grabbed as many knights as he could and fell to the ground as the archers fired. Kalin looked and saw as the explosions sent bodies, bodies from both sides, flying and on fire. The explosions caused the houses to catch fire. Within minutes the town was a red blaze. Two more waves of explosive arrows shook the ground until finally, knights made it to the archers, killing most of them.
Kalin looked at the men he had pushed down. One had a clay fragment in his head and the other was unconscious. The third looked at him, he was one of the two he had run in with.
“Thank you sir. But I am not going to make it. Please, I am Corran Yaharion. Tell my parent’s I was brave. Tell them I fought for the Kingdom.” Kalin was puzzled but he then saw it. Corran’s head was open, completely. It was amazing he could even talk or live. He looked back but Corran was already dead. Kalin took his sword and walked forward.
“God! In your name and for the sake of Corran I will now fight!” Kalin swung both blades around, slicing and piercing armor and skin. Knights came up to him on both sides but both died. Kalin made his way to the biggest building in the town, slicing and slashing. He heard cries from that area, louder and louder as he neared. Then he saw the leader. He was at least seven feet tall, he had to have been massively strong, judging by the size of his armor. His helmet shook as he cried out orders and grunted. The man swung a large battle-ax, the curved blade cutting knights in half with each swing. Knights would turn to run, only to be hacked down by the long ax blade. Kalin ran up to the man, slicing and then jumped back, away from the immense weapon. The fighting continued until the man finally turned enough. At the tip of his neck, there was a break in his armor. Kalin knew it was his only choice, he ran forward and leapt to the side, onto the building, he then jumped off the building and threw Corran’s sword into the leader’s head. The giant suddenly stopped. His arms dropped and everyone looked in surprise at the blade sticking out through the man’s face. Blood flowed down his chin and armor and he finally fell over. A wave of peace fell over the crowd; they had recaptured Ardire.
Already, knight’s had crossed over and were helping to douse out the fires. Knights that refused to comply with Farron as King were killed quickly. Kalin had taken off his shirt and was helping to put out the fires when he heard a horse out in the distance. He looked but bricks and smoke obscured his view. He heard one of the generals talking and then footsteps. They continued until Kalin saw him, it was Magis. He expected the best and worst. Then he scared himself with what the worst would mean. But by the expression on his face, Magis could only have good news. Finally both walked toward each other and shook hands. Then they hugged, as they hugged Magis whispered
“I now can love you as a Christian Brother.” Kalin pulled back and smiled. His smile turned into pure joy and Kalin hugged him again, out of happiness and to hide the tears.
That night there was a great feast. The people of Ardire were happy to put one on in honor of the Crown Knights. At the large dinner table sat the town head and all the generals and captains. Magis was allowed at Kalin’s request. They had cooked turkey and pork. The wine was fresh and although he did not try it, Kalin could tell the alcohol was powerful. The generals and other captains became drunk and hysterical. Kalin chose to leave as the town women started after the men. One woman came up to Kalin, but he quickly held up his hand that held his wedding ring.
Kalin went into one of the inns. He tried to pay for a room but the lady at the counter said it was free of charge. The captain went into a room, and fell onto a bed. After a few minutes Magis joined him. Quickly Kalin fell asleep.

 

[Die Kaiserin]

Ah, why not post chapter six?
------------------
6.
The Renegade
During the night, reinforcements had come. They had come upon ship bringing knights and food, weapons and shields. A general throwing a shield at him had awakened Kalin. The general was in silver gleaming armor, with a long sword at his side. He wore a shield with Farron’s symbol upon his back.
“You will keep this from now on. No matter what you think, no more stupid antics, no one lives forever.” With that he turned away and left the inn. Kalin knew they would have to choose whether to take a boat or to ride by horse. Kalin then remembered and looked over to see that Magis was gone. Kalin quickly strapped the large metal shield to his back and walked outside. He wore dark blue pants with a white shirt tucked in. He covered one shoulder with a curved armor piece. Over his shirt he wore a black leather jacket. It had no sleeves and a high collar. It was his fathers, he had waited almost ten years until he could fit into it. He sheathed his long sword and cracked his knuckles. He looked to see Magis, in his green hooded cloak again, leading two horses. He smiled as Kalin waved at him in the morning sunlight, the day was completely opposite from yesterday.
“I figured the boats would be too vulnerable to arrow fire. We should be able to get in without to much trouble on horseback. Besides, you hate boats.” Kalin smirked,
“You are right, all the way around. When do we leave?” They heard a thunder of horse hooves moving,
“Now.” Kalin smiled as he jumped onto his horse and kicked its sides. He galloped up into the large caravan of knights and lieutenants, captains and generals. Several large carts carried weapons and most officers rode on horses. Kalin motioned Magis to follow him as he rode into the front line. He stopped next to the “gleaming general” that had awakened him.
“I am sorry for not staying back and going without permission. It is my way, however, to charge into a battle fearlessly, it was my father’s way.” The general turned his head, they now were trotting along at an easy pace. His face was scarred, a deep groove that outlined and etched his face. His eyes were a stone gray.
“Yes, your father. I remember him. Talfon Dragonfire was one of the best men who have held a sword. He would handle it as if it were not there, moving as water. I bet you miss him. What am I saying? Of course you miss him.” Kalin managed a smile through the wave of emotion. Tears threatened to pour down his face. Kalin overcame the feeling and managed another question.
“Did you ever fight along side of him?” The general nodded,
“Yes. We fought together as friends, as knights. Even during his last battle we fought together. However, we were separated at the time he was killed.” Kalin was saddened. He did not lose hope though. He searched to learn more about his father, from someone who knew him at the time he was most himself. For Kalin had found that in battle, one reveals who they really are. One’s most inner self is shown.
“When he fought, what was he like? Was he wrathful?” The general frowned,
“Well he always was a leader. He was good at leading us into battle. But as far as personality, well no, he was not wrathful. He always kept his cool, attacked with prestige and accuracy. He always aimed to end a fight as soon as it began,” In other words, Kalin thought, he killed quickly, always dealing a fatal blow. The general kept talking, “-he never liked long battles. He would always take the shortest course of action to get us through the battle.” Kalin thought of another question soon, and then another. Soon an hour had past and Kalin did not know if he loved and respected his father more or less.
“Was there ever anything ‘special’ about my father? Was he ever different? I know this sounds odd but,” The general, whose name was Michael Torrid II, frowned. For a minute all Kalin heard was the silent trotting of the horses, and the murmurs and occasional laughs of the knights and squires. Finally Michael spoke up. He was suddenly very hushed as he seemed to decide on something.
“The people who knew him best suspected something. The way he was so…he was so incredible in a battle, like no one else. He would move like the wind, striking blows on the enemy before they saw him move. He was also incredibly gifted at never taking a hit. He was never once hurt in battle, not one scar.” Kalin nodded, then he suddenly had a picture in his mind, one he had never seen before. It was as real as if it was true. He saw his dad’s face, grinning widely. The small wrinkled in his face from happiness. But there was one thing wrong with his face, a blur here or there. Kalin adjusted the picture until finally, after matching up all his memories, he saw a complete picture of his face. His hair was the same almond brown, but down one cheek was a deep scar. Kalin bit his lip, would this man lie to him? Kalin decided to ask him strait out.
“What about the scar on his left cheek?” Michael was surprised, then nodded.
“I guess he was wounded, once. Now I must talk of strategy, we draw near to the city. You had best get some sleep, the horse knows the way.” With that, the general trotted ahead at a faster pace.
Kalin pushed aside the thoughts of suspicion and worry. He then took the great knight’s suggestion, and slept. While he slept he dreamt of Crysts. He thought of her being stabbed with a knife, then her body faded into that of Cortinis. His face twisted in agony. Kalin tried to cry out to him, but no one heard. He then dreamt of him and his father, laughing and eating together once again. Kalin smiled in his dream but his father was not himself, there was a deep wound in his chest still, the wound that had killed him. He seemed not to notice as he laughed and drank his water. His father then spoke,
“Well Kalin, this is it. This is the last time I will ever see you. Love you, goodbye.” Kalin laughed in his dream,
“Dad, that isn’t true! Ha! Daddy?” The young Kalin’s face began to scrunch up as he cried. Then an arrow split through his dad’s head, rippling his image into nothingness as if it was water. Then Kalin awoke with the arrow flying at him. He leaned to the side as it streaked past with a whistling of wind. A sharp pain flew through his head as it sliced the tip of his ear. Kalin looked up to see the towering castle of GriffinBlade. The towering walls of the castle were covered with spits of blood and oil. Ladder pieces still hung in some places. Six mighty towers, with twenty archers at east post, lined the outer wall. Lining the rest of the stone wall were either knights fighting or catapults, hurling large versions of the fire grenades. The explosions rocked the ground as thousands ran towards the drawbridge. The castle was nestled into the corner of a large mountain with a mighty river running from it. The rushing water was an incredible moat, washing away twenty men at a time. Mountains line the back of the castle, making the front drawbridge the only way in. Kalin soaked in all this information as he galloped towards a small group of men. His horse rose on its back legs and crushed two of the men as it came down. Kalin quickly swiped down the last few. That was when he saw Michael kneeling against a large hill. Arrows flew both ways and Kalin watched in amazement as people suddenly fell dead around him from both sides. As Kalin reached the general, he brought the horse to its knees.
“Was I supposed to die? I was asleep!” Tarrid waved it off,
“You sleep to deeply, not a good habit. Break it. I am glad you did not run off for you would have died, so let’s not test how much you are like your father just yet alright! This is how it is planned. We will have our group charge forward, but at this mound here,” he pointed to a roughly drawn map of the geography of the area, “they will split into three groups. One goes to the left around this hill,” he drew the line with his finger, “and one will go right. The third will charge right through the middle. We will ride on horse back with the other horse riders, charging up behind the sentry units. If they fail, we clean up nicely.” He folded up the map and tucked it away in a squires pack. Kalin was furious,
“What if they claim the castle before we make it? This is at least a mile, if not two miles distance! By the time our knights ‘fail’ and we come to clean up, we could have to reclaim the castle! Your tactics are to pridefull, thinking that these renegade knights are just stupid barbarians. No, they are not. Most are knights trained at the same academy you and I were trained at! Now, they have a leader who knows what he is doing. Tyris is no small matter, I have taught him. The only person I was afraid of fighting next to my father was he.” Michael glared at Kalin,
“You foolish ignorant-“ He yelled amid curses, “You talk of pride and of tactics, you have neither. I am of royal blood and you are not! Your father may have been a great general but wake up he is dead. Something went wrong with his ‘tactics’. So shut your mouth and let me show you how politics and leadership in a battle are done!” The general cursed again and then regained his cool. They heard the screams and wails of those who were dying.
“You are going with the left group, you will take the longest path possible around this trail, we want to give them time to think we have a small group. Now go and assemble who you will be leading, GO!” For a second Kalin was disgusted, but then he saw what the rush was. Arrows, ten of them, had pierced a captain next to Michael. Arrows continued to fly as Kalin and Tarrid ran across the field. They met up with a small group of knights and archers. Kalin ran and stabbed deep into one archer, and spun around quickly into another. Michael slaughtered the five knights in seconds, sweeping a long sword in all directions. Kalin killed the last archer by shooting him with an arrow as he ran away. General Torrid quickly mounted on a horse set for him, as did Kalin. The captain then went to gather up his troops, to his surprise, knew who he was. He gathered four hundred from the group of sixteen hundred. Finally the entire army swept forward. The knights let out a battle cried as they charged. A wave of glinting armor, splashing down the slope of a large hill. Suddenly, at a point of breaking, the group split in three. No one saw this, however, because of the two plateaus blocking the view. Only a narrow valley was passage.
Kalin charged his group to the left and galloped strongly. He knew he must hurry or the enemy will attack from all sides. As his troops charged forward, they heard the battle from across the large rock. They heard their friends and even family crying out in cheer, or death. Kalin urged forward all the more. They finally neared the end of the trail, when arrows suddenly scaled the plateau. Knights fell and shields were held up. Some died, but most lasted. Kalin then threw his arm and cried,
“This is it! Avenge yourselves! Go!” His wave spanned out and took over the hill and the rest of the path. They charged unsuspecting groups and killed them, sweeping through them without as much as a ripple. The archers were soon eliminated too, the group scaled the hillside with haste. Soon the entire group converged on the back of the main force. At the same time, the army on the right did the same. The army of one thousand was surrounded on all sides. After an hour of fighting, Kalin was drenched in other’s blood. The cries and moans of the wounded and dying were everywhere, The grotesque view of the battle was enough that many men threw up. Those who had survived shoved their swords into the ground and cried out in victory. As they sat down, their own fatigue caught up with them.

 

[Die Kaiserin]

That night, the men made fires and celebrated. Kalin felt ashamed. He went to Michael and sat down at the table.
“There was not even a need of horse riders. Forgive me. I was wrong, although I hate to admit it.” The general smiled,
“It comes with experience my boy. You may be good, but your not that good. Give yourself time, you will eventually understand. But enjoy the festivities, tomorrow we go to the castle and rejoice again. Drink up!” With that, the night proceeded. Almost everyone drank themselves to the point of passing out. Kalin only shook his head in disbelief. Was that it? Was that the ‘army’ that threatened to take Griffinblade? No, but who cares?” Finally he too went to sleep.
The morning was a terrible one. Kalin opened his eyes only to see Crown Knights being killed in their sleep silently by Colossals. They killed them by slitting their throats and covering their mouths. One came over to Kalin but was stopped as Kalin drove a sword in his neck. He fell with a loud thud, alarming the others. Kalin quickly jumped to his feet and cried out loudly.
“Wake up! Wake up now! NOW!” Kalin grabbed an attacker’s arm and drove his sword into him. The man fell only to reveal an assassin. The man wore light blue cloth with green trimming. His weapons were long knives that were linked to his hands. The blades curved back and up along his arm to his elbow. He quickly spun in the air, slicing up and down. Kalin blocked the hits with his sword and with his shield. He backed up as the man continued to attack him. He lost his footing and fell down a small slope. When he looked up, he saw the man diving at him, full force. Kalin thought it was over when an arrow suddenly shot through the assassin’s head. From ear to ear, it cleared it and flew out the other side. The man fell to the ground as blood seeped through the holes in his mask.
Kalin sighed heavily and looked to see an archer with an angry grin on his face. He nodded to Kalin and then sniped out another knight. Kalin had roused enough knights to kill the remaining Colossals. As they searched for who were among the dead, they found mostly officers. General Michael was relieved; all the other generals were killed in the attack. The squires helped the wounded and wept over the dead. All the knights were in disbelief. They had thought they won! How; no, where, Did these come from? General Michael stood up on a large rock to look at the castle.
“I don’t believe it. You were right after all. Look Kalin.” Kalin climbed the rock and looked over the horizon. He saw thousands of bodies and dried blood. The sun was just coming up and Kalin then scanned over the castle. He saw the flag of Colossal. An iron hand holding a sword that dripped with blood. Gruesome, Kalin thought, but it got the point across. No one could mess with them, or could they? Is there a way in that castle?
“Sir, is there any other way into the castle?” The general nodded gravely,
“If you swim against the current of the moat, ten feet down there is a passage. Mostly for a quick escape, you know, let the current take you away. It hasn’t been used for a while. Are you going to try something?” Kalin smile and nodded. He went over to a small makeshift map of the castle from an aerial view. He pointed out to the archers where good points would be to hide or to shoot at from the outside. He then saw the best area for an attack. He signaled for a group of knights to come and showed them the courtyard.
“It will be bloody, but if you could get a large fight going, we could surround you with archers.” He then told the archers what to do. It was his strategy from the battle of Ardire, but this time they actually had fire arrows. He explained where and when to hit them hard. Finally Kalin took the last seventy knights and explained his plan. They would go in from the tunnel underneath. Some might suffocate some might not.
“After we come out, we will hopefully be under shadow. If we are, fight like no one else to get away. We are going straight for every army’s weakness, their leader. I have reason to believe he is here.” One knight was surprised,
“You mean Tyris the Renegade?” Kalin nodded,
“Yes, he was once my friend, and still might be. If the time comes, however, we will fight each other. The knights drooped their heads; they all knew it would happen. Finally Kalin told them to get rest.
“I want three shifts of lookouts, and archers always on the go. We attack at night.”
Kalin went to a tent that was set up for him. He sat down on the cot and put his face into his hands. He ruffled his hair and began to take of his heavy breastplate. The armor was no longer the gleaming blue, but a bloody red. His chain mail was sticky with a mix of sweat and blood, his undershirt the same. Suddenly Magis walked in.
“Well, it seems you have established yourself here! Feeling okay? You look pale.” Kalin could not stop from smiling.
“Well, seeing people getting killed all the time can get to you. And, I miss Crysts. I guess a lot of things are bothering me. Can’t we ever get a break from all this?” Magis let out a short laugh. He sat down next to his friend, and pulled back his green hood. He unlatched his leather gloves and tossed them off.
“Sometimes, I get sick of it all to. We all do. You, on the other hand, have a bigger responsibility. It is your job to keep us all in order! I mean...How do I put it? God has blessed you. Wether you except it or not, he has. Sometimes we have to let go of our own lives and move on. You cannot go on living like you do and expect others to follow you! If you are too reluctant to lead, then you have wasted a precious gift." Kalin lifted his eyes to meet those of his friend's. How could one so lost find so much wisdom? Have I really been the strong Christian I am striving to be?
Thoughts flooded into Kalin's mind and he finally saw it, the reason he had been so messed up, the reason he had lost all hope. It was him. No one else, him. His walk with the one and only true God was all but lost. The Enemy had taken a firm grasp of him...
"Satin is the Prince of Darkness, and the Father of Lies...How could I have been so blind?" Kalin stood abruptly and looked around with new eyes, eyes of knowledge and of final understanding...It is all so simple, he thought, I don't have to do more than what I am. I am a christian, so that is what I will live up to! I am a great leader, worthy of my status!
Kalin returned to the outside. The smell of blood and sweat was still heavy in the air. The men were all lying around,
tired and wary of the battle to come. None knew of how it would pass. Kalin scanned the sun, it was about ten in the morning, and he needed to prepare a battle strategy. If I want to be a general, I better start acting like one...

• • •

 

[Die Kaiserin]

• • •
Kaehl sat quietly in his room. The oak of the floor brought memories of home, of his village, far from the castle. It had been taken over by the Farron Empire when he was ten. Using it mainly as a food source, the Kingdom put all the men to work. Kaehl had gotten used to slave labor, as he called it. Every morning he got up, ate some bread and cheese, and set out to harvest the field. If it wasn't harvest time, he went to the grape vines, if not that, then he simply picked berries from the Winter Forest. Finally, if none of these were possible, they all went hunting. Even though the young ones could not use a bow, they had to come. All this meant non-stop work. Never ending heat or cold, even when sickness came, the people were forced to work.
One day, however, Kaehl found a bow, left by one of the hunters. He picked it up and examined it. He was twelve at the time and far from being able to actually use it. But the idea of being skilled with the bow by then intrigued Kaehl, so he would work harder every day, and go off at night to train with the bow. His first problem was with finding bows. He had none. So Kaehl worked on carbing his own bows. After two months, Kaehl had made about two-hundred bows. Chiseling the rocks came as no problem to him, he had learned all these skills from his father.
After that, Kaehl took to making a target, he took a little wheat, everyday, and it built up into three targets. Finally, Keahl was ready. After six months of preparation, he was ready. Kaehl laughed to himself as he remembered his first shot. He had pulled the arrow back completely wrong, and the arrow went two feet. So he tried again, and it went ten feet. After the night was over, he had gotten no farther than twenty feet, and the target was fourty feet away.
Kaehl never gave up though, and after two months, he was hitting the target every time. After three months, he was always hitting the bull's eye, so Kaehl moved it back to seventy feet. And again, it took him a few months, but he would always hit the bull's eye. And so it went, for two years, until the target was two hundred feet away, and Kalin could fire three arrows at once, and all hit the bull's eyes. It was at this time, thta Kaehl considered himself to be the best. Kaehl went on for two more years, until he was sixteen, training at night to be a hunter. Then, when the time came, he was ready. He grabbed his bow and ran up to his father. The other boys were all nervous, because it was there first time, but Kaehl hunted with expertise. He quietly stepped on ground thick with twigs that could snap.
After an hour, they came upon a deer. Kaehl crouched down quietly, and awaited his father. When he came, he spoke to him like an amateur.Kaehl shrugged it off and smiled.
"Dad, can I do this? Please, let me show you something." Kaehl pulled out an arrow, strung his his bow, pulled back, and released a kill shot. The deer went down and all the men gasped. Again Kaehl pulled out an arrow, and with precision, killed a boar no one had even seen until then. He stood and ran to both creatures, pulling his knife to make sure they were dead. As Kaehl had suspected, they were.
Kaehl ran to his astonished father. His mouth gped open, but no words formed. All of the men were amazed. Such a young boy already knew how to shoot like a veteran hunter.
"Where did you learn to shoot like that boy?" Kaehl smiled,
"It was back in the woods to the west of here. I have been teaching myself for the past four years." The men were even more taken aback by this. A self taught hunter.For another year, Kaehl was a town hero. His ability, if possible, grew. He became quicker in drawing the bows from the quiver. He had been rewarded so much as a lump of silver to make arrow heads out of. His new arrows struck into stone, and definitely killed animals in one hit.
Six months later, the Empire came. Once they heard of Kaehl's ability, they took him with the cargo. He was to be made into an archer, a soldier that used arrows to fight, Kaehl had heard of nothing like it before. Killing men with his arrows? No, that was against all he had been taught. No! Kaehl then decided for himself that even though he would fight for them, the Farron Empire was wrong, utterly and completely. At that moment, Kaehl pledeged loyalty against the Empire, and all of its accomplices.
After two years of Kaehl impressing all of his teachers, he finally was sent under command of a Captain. His other recruits at the time were Kalin Dragonfire, a supposed great knight, son of the best general, Tyris Calcitone, Crysts Sannda, and Harkorn. This was a moment in Kaehl's life that he would not forget. Once he bacame friends of Kalin, his mind wsa released. Here was a man who was respected, but humble, and skilled, but original. Kalin was one who you could immediately put your trust into and not even notice.
It has been four years since then. Kalin was now a captain first class. And each of the others all had men under them. Even Kaehl had succeded his leader and gained a large group of archers. But his group only went out on two occasions, one is when Kalin charges and needs his men, and two is when the battle is in desperate need of archers. Kaehl's group was not respected, and therefore not used. So naturally, when Kaehl got a letter under his wooden door, giving orders to move out, he was happy. He quickly jumped up and undressed. He slipped on his black pants and his white shirt, over the shirt he placed his chain mail and around his left calg he strapped a knife. He slipped on a leather shirt and slung his quiver of arrows over his right shoulder.
When Kaehl was running down the stone hallway, his leather shoes giving no sign of his presence, he thought of Crysts in the infirmary. He quickly sprinted down the opposite way and let himself in. She lay there in a silent dream. Her face so beautiful was cast by the sunlight, shadows played on the walls. The white sheet that she covered with was unrinkled, showing no sign that she had even moved since being layed there. Kaehl had never had a girlfriend, he was always too busy with life. He admired Kalin, he admired everything about him. It angered him so much that he could not be respected like Kalin. Then, for the second time in Kaehl's life, he vowed to make himself known, no matter the cost....

• • •

 

[Die Kaiserin]

Kalin sat at a small overturned box with three other captains. Before him lie the map of the castle. He showed them the exact location of the secret tunnel in the moat and where they should bring their troups to get to it. Since the battlefield was littered with hills and lean-tos, it would be no problem getting to the castle walls. The problem was getting inside. Kalin had no prior experience with a completely fortified castle siege. A town with a wall was the extent of his expertise. So the other captains devised a strategy to get at least one hundred troops inside before the enemy had time to send for reinforcements.
The first wave would dive in the moat and head for the tunnel. While a large number of archers distracted the tower guards, the next one hundred knights would storm the front. Then another group through the tunnel and again wtih the archers. The process would continue until all the archers were dead or all the knights were inside the castle. After that, the plan was very open, the way Kalin liked it. They had no idea where the tunnel led so the knights would have two captains to play it by ear. Then, the other knights would fight to show the enemies their weakness. This main group would be led by Kalin and the remaining Captain.
It was midnight when the army set out. The crickets made their abnoxious screeching, and the blooming flowers left a scent, mixing with the dank smell of water and sweat. The trees swayed with the small wind, and the grass whistled and sang. The night owls hooted and swooped down to catch their meals. The archers used these birds as target prectice, and one by one, the hooting stopped. Then, the army was gone. They quickly rushed through the open field, dashing behind anything that would hide them, until they backed against another hill. The veteran knights smiled at the thought of the upcoming battle, as sweat ran down the faces of the amateurs. They wispered amongst themselves of how they wanted to go home, and how they were ready. Kalin shrugged it off, if they survived, they would rejoice. Everybody started out shaky, but the hardest was hearing the young ones. Those fresh out of their homes, who had never experienced killing, prior to these last battles. It hurt Kalin to think of how they would die by the sword. Kalin thought back to an old saying on a wooden plaque,
"Live by the sword, or die by the sword." He finally understood that, at first he had interpreted it to mean that you either live or die on the battlefield. But now he knew what it truly meant, the second you pick up a sword, you have sealed your own fate. No longer will you live a normal life, but a life of the blade. And once you live that life, you are bound to its death, death by the sword or blade. Suddenly Kalin was hit by a captain.
"Do you want us to move into our final position? Or should we wait?" Kalin smiled, so anxious.
"We go now. Ready the archers, and send out the first Tunnel Group." The captain nodded and ran off, in a few seconds, Kalin listened to a loud hooting noise, similar to that of an owls. And in response, another owl hoot. The archers were ready. Kalin heard the first shot fired and watched as the first group moved towards the moat. Kalin nodded to the first captain as he ran towards the front of the mighty castle. Kalin watched him but was distracted by the castle itself. It was sorrounded by an outer wall with four towers on each corner. Then once past that, a taller wall with eight towers, one between each corner. Then, finally you reached the castle itself. It was surrounded by a town that had been burned during the last attack. The actual castle had eight towers spiraling up, each starting where the last left off. Stone and silver held it all together. Suddenly Kalin realized that it was his chance to get to the drawbridge. The bridge was already litered with dead bodies, and Kalin knew there were more all around. So he charged.
Kalin's mind left him, leaving only the warrior rage. He pulled his sword and cried out as he slashed at arrows coming at him.
"Be weary! Sharpshooters!" Kalin rolled past yet another arrows as it grazed his armor. Finally, he reached the drawbridge and dashed even faster inside. He was taken aback for a moment at the sight of two hundred knights fighting back and forth, dropping and moving on. He saw arrows come from outside and on the walls. Suddenly, time slowed, and Kalin saw a man running at him from behind, and then time returned. Kalin, shocked from the experience, jumped to the left right as a man plunged a sword into where his back was. Kalin sneared and slashed forward, taking the man's arm off, before sweeping up and taking the man's life. Kalin moved his hand, signalling to move forward, and led his troops into the thick of the battle.
He charged and struck forward, killing a knight, and spun back around to kill another. He stepped back as he struck back and forth against another blade. Then he swooped his underneath and thrusted into the knight's leg, brought his sword out and twisted it into the man's head. Kalin pulled his sword back out and ducked under an arrows path. He then rolled forward and sliced at a knight's shins, bringing him down for him to thrust the sword into his chest. Kalin stood and looked to the main door and saw one of his knights fighting with an enemy captain. He charged through the group, killing two men on his way, and knocked away the captain's sword before he managed to kill the knight. Kalin then held up his sword, preparing for a duel. The captain gritted his teeth and pulled his sword. He swept forward and Kalin retaliated by knocking the blow away and jumping back. The two captains exchanged blows and blocks, Kalin's arm bled freely, and the leg of the enemy was blackened and cut up. Finally the man threw down his sword and fell to the ground. He breathed heavily and his eyes were glazed. He was dying, and he knew it. He looked up to Kalin and smiled.
"I consider it an honor to die by your hands, Kalin. Please, give me an honorable death..." Kalin nodded, and the man got to his knees. Kalin lifted his sword and struck deep into the man's back, killing him. After this was done, Kalin's blood slowed down, his spirit caught up with his mind, ending the race. He sat down and began to think about those last words. What was the point in training and living if you only die in the end? Why all the trouble? Is life really worth it? Kalin thought back to the man's last words, 'I consider it an honor....' What? To die! When did it become an honor to die by anyone's hands? Whe- Kalin's thoughts were interupted by a lancer charging him with a spear. He stabbed forward, but Kalin rolled to the side, drawing his sword. The man swung his lance in a circular pattern and then thrusted. Kalin anticipated the attack and rolled forward, stabbing up through the mans breastplate, into his ribcage. Blood spilled forth from the small cut, drenching the ground around him. The man's eyes filled with tears and blood as he fell to the ground, a pool of his own blood around him. Kalin crawled back from the puddle, shaking his head. Around him, life sped up and then slowed down. His vision blurred, and all he saw was red.
Kalin immediately came back and lifted his face from the blood. He looked around through a blood drenched face, and all he saw was the gore of battle, of war. He saw the faces of both sides. The determination, the pain, and the victory. He saw faces light up, and then drown in a wave of blood. He saw both sides, like multi-colored waves, pushing back and forth. Then Kalin realized something, he was still fighting. While his thoughts were running and his mind pondered, men were dying by his hands. He was so drawn into the battle that it took no mental thought to sword fight. It came naturally to his hands and body. Again, like a wave of light, Kalin's mind returned to his head. He saw through his eyes again, just as he killed another man.
Kalin ran into the thick of the battle again. He watched as the shields were discarded by some, and Kalin then realized that he no longer had his on. It made no difference to him, he never used it. He saw his own knights splinter the enemie's shields into their necks, killing them. He saw another crack the skull of a Colossus with the hilt of his blade, making a bloody dent in the man's head. Kalin spun around as he heard the footsteps of an enemy, decapitating him. The body stood for what seemed like an eternity to Kalin, before it crippled to the ground, spilling blood everywhere. All Kalin could see was blood flowing and seeping into the ground. He saw himself kill a man, and then turn around to kill another. It all happened in an hour, but it felt like a days worth of fighting. He then realized that the Kingdom Knights had won. All the men looked at each other and let out a whoop of praise. Kalin smiled to himself until it all came to him. There was a second courtyard.

 

[Die Kaiserin]

Captain Katar led his last group of fifty men through the last bit of the town. They had met up with the army that was encamped in the town and the second wall. Together with Captain Ilian and his own knights, they had won. Now all that was left was regrouping, and storming the actual castle. His men were bloody and wounded. His knights opened the Town Gate and ran past the field of dead. They then opened the Secon Wall Gate, and ther before them stood a masacre. Bodies lay everywhere on the ground, and only one hundred men remained out of two hundred. Blood still spilled from some bodies, but most was already dried. Kalin sat on a fallen piece of rock covered in blood of other men. His troops were either laying around, or crying out in pain from wounds. Katar walked up to his Kalin and was followed by magis, his green cloak a mix of red now.
"Looks like we did it Kalin. Now only the castle remains. With our numbers, we should take it easily." Kalin heard Magis' words and began to laugh long and hard. After a little bit he held up his hands and wiped the grin from his face.
"I can kill without thinking about it! I am the ultimate machine for King Farron! Lets take that castle right now!" Magis was a little scared of his friend at that moment. Kalin had been strong in battle, but this was the talk of a madman. He stepped forward and did the only thing that came to his mind, he punched Kalin square in the jaw. The blow knocked him off the rock and onto his back. Kalin laughed a little more, but the laughter turned into crying.
"What have I become? A man said it would be an honor to die by my hands. Is that right? An honor to die...What does it mean?" Magis laughed to lighten the mood,
"It means you have fans! Now come on, we need to get this over with." As Kalin stood he looked at the broken front wall. Exploding arrows had been used during the battle, but Kalin had not noticed. He saw the sun beginning to rise. He saw the eye-peircing sun light, and he welcomed it. Even though it hurt his eyes, he embraced the warmth. His mind, once broken and frayed, was now healed. His sanity regained, he stood again. He called all the troops in and stood upon the tallest pillar he could. He saw the different colored eyes and hair. The mix of people and towns, all brought together by war. He knew his own face was red, but it would not always be that way.
"You fought long, and hard. You fought well, but it is time to fight again. You gave your lives to the blade, now live by that code. I treat you all as my brothers, we are brought together by the same enemy. We must fight for our cause, for our home land! Now is the time! Now-" Kalin looked across the horizon and saw a batalion of archers. He saw them all riding horses and knew right then that the leader was Kaehl. He smiled, and was releaved at the thought of having a defensive back.
"Good news! We have reinforcements! Lets storm this castle, and show these guys what the true strength of the Farron Empire is!" The large army cheered as Kalin ended his small speech, and the group of sixty archers rode through the front gate. Kalin ran to greet his friend.
"Glad you could make it!" Kaehl returned the smile,
"Glad to be here. Lets take back this castle, shall we?"
The archers dissmounted and grouped with the reamaining ten archers from the army. They exchanged arrows and moved into position. The first wave of archers stood, while the others kneeled. When one shot, the others would stand and shoot, creating a constant wave of arrows. Kalin lined his troops up in even rows. He looked across the burned rubble of the town to the front of the castle. There was assembled a group of about two hundred men. With archers in the eight towers. And at the top of the castle, Kalin saw a solitary figure. Right then, dred came upon Kalin at the thought of having to kill his own best friend or be killed. He shook the thought and stood in the front of his army, and swung his sword forward.
Kalin sped across the field, followed by two hundred knights and a barrage of arrows. Colossus knights charged, but the front line fell dead as the first wave of arrows came in. Men fell from Kalin's group as archers sniped them out. Kalin ran past two arrows, and struck down a third. Finally Kalin met up with the other army, and ran strait into them. He shoved his sword deep into the stomach of a knight and spun around to kill another. he struck them down, moving through the group with haste. He then picked up another sword, and began to fight two knights at once, stabbing them both down and flipping over them as he fought back and forth with two more knights. He stabbed one in the arm, swung down to finish him, and then twirled to bring both swords down on one knight.The two cuts spurted blood and the man gurgled as he fell to the ground. Kalin continued to move through the group, until he reached the castle doors. A lone knight, whose armor and sword labeled him a Crusader, deadliest of enemies. He pulled his swords and swung them at Kalin, criss-crossing them trying to scare the Captain. Kalin shook his head,
"Sorry, I dont have the time. Maybe later." With that he dashed to the right of the giant knight and sliced down his side, knocking him to the crowd. Kalin sprinted into the abandoned castle. He saw a large velvet carpet and cut up pictures of King Farron's blood line. He scanned the room and saw what he was looking for, spiral stairs. He sprinted up the stairs and came out into one of the towers. Kalin saw two archers that had fallen with arrows in their bodies. He then shoved another out of the tower and heard him cry before hitting the ground. Kalin turned and ran up the next set of stairs. He saw yet another tower of dead archers and proceeded to the third tower, yet again, all dead.
Kalin sprinted up all eight towers until he finally reached the roof of the castle. The broad platform had dead archers on all the sides. But one figure stood at the end. Sitting in a throne of wood and silver. His body was encased in silver mail, all except his head. And a lone spear with a twirling blade leaned agianst the side. Tyris stood, and smiled. He cocked his head to the side and said in a deep voice,
"I wondered when you would come. My tiny empire, planning to crush it are we? I am sorry, dear friend, but I can't have that. I am the leader here, and I won't lose." Tyris picked up his spear and spun it around. Kalin sheathed his sword, and held out the one he had picked up. He shook his head,
"It doesn't have to be like this. There has to be another way!" Tyris laughed,
"Hah! Another way indeed. Kalin, let me inform you of your 'other way'. Lets say I put down my weapon. And I go to King Farron and beg and plead for my life, saying that I was wrong and such. Do you want to know what his gracious majesty would do? He would kill me. Plain and simple, he killed your brother to make you more loyal, he would do the same to me, only this would be because 'he tried to kill me'. Bah! No, I wont take your pitiful route. This is what is right, your king is nothing but a power hungry tyrant." Kalin shook his head,
"No! You are wrong! Look at yourself! They call you 'Tyris the Renegade'! You call that right? You are the power hungry one! Tyris, I once knew you, but you are not the same. It is time we ended this." Tyris gritted his teeth with hatred,
"I do agree, friend. Prepare to meet our Maker." Tyris lept forward and brought his spear down hard, Kalin barely lept out of the way of the hideous blade. He struck forward as Tyris brought his balde up to block, Tyris then swung his spear around and down into Kalin, knocking him back. Kalin crawled back as Tyris stabbed his spear down into the stone. Kalin jumped to his feet and kicked Tyris in the side. He brought his sword around and stabbed straight for Tyris' chest. Suddenly Tyris pulled his spear free and spun it around, knocking away Kalin's sword. He swung back and forth, forcing Kalin back towards the edge of the roof. Kalin drew his second sword to block all of the the swings Tyris was delivering.
"You certainly did improve since we last sparred." Tyris shook his head as he continued to strike and block,
"No, I always held back." Tyris again struck forward hard, knocking Kalin down yet again. But Kalin jumped back up and charged forward. He swung back and forth, blow after blow, always striking. He cut into Tyris' arm, and Tyris did the same to Kalin. But neither stopped attacking, ever. Back and forth they went, all around the castle roof. Kalin flipped sideways and cut into Tyris' side. As Tyris let out a cry, Kalin let his guard down, allowing Tyris to strike his ribs.
Both men were bloody and wounded, but kept going. Kalin's mind raced as he swung forward and stepped back to block an onlslaught. Fatigue was attacking his ribs, and he felt the sweat pouring. He saw the same in Tyris, and it gave him even more fighting spirit. He spun his two swords left and right, striking, blocking and moving forward and back. Then Tyris rolled to the side and cut deep into Kalin's leg. Kalin shouted out and went limp, falling to one knee. Tyris laughed and stood up from his attacking postition.
"It looks like this is the end, Kalin. You will never get to general status, not like your father. If it helps, I do sympathize with you. I understand what hate you must feel towards me. But understand one thing, I am doing this for the glory of the Colossus as a whole, not for me. I do not want power, I want equality, I am simply leading the way." Kalin allowed sweat to drip from his chin. He breathed heavily and was not ready to die. He thought back, but only remembered one thing, I consider it an honor to die by your hands. Which meant something new to Kalin. That someone was willing to die for the sake of having fought Kalin. And how could Kalin lose now? He could never forgive himself, no, he must go on. So he stood, first one leg, then, with pain, the other. He drew his two swords and managed to say,
"This is not over." Kalin charged and fought harder than ever before. He swung faster, and stronger. He landed blows on Tyris, but his enemy came back, swinging with as much strength as ever. The blows were delivered, and Kalin made Tyris back up to the ledge of the castle. He backed him against one of the many large, four foot high blocks of stone that lined the outside of the ledge. No words were exchanged but Tyris could not hold against his fatigue, and took another step back, off of the ledge. When he realized this, he reached out and pulled Kalin with him, as he fell.
Kalin flew through the air next to Tyris. He felt the air whistling in his ears as he sailed down. Was this it? Was it going to end now? Then in sudden moments, he crashed, but an odd crash. He felt his ribs break, and maybe his arm. He then just let himself sink...Sink? Sinking...I am Sinking....His mind returned and he realized he had fallen into the moat. Must get to surface, must breathe. Kalin moved his one good arm and in a matter of desperate seconds broke to the surface. He took several painful breaths and then closed his eyes. I just need a little rest... Kalin was immediately awakened. His body was taken ashore and dried. While his mind wavered, he thought of only one thing, Tyris. Why did he have to die? If I survived, did he? Could it be possible? Why must we fight! Argh, always I ponder these things, will it ever end? Kalin came back to the battleground and sat opened his eyes.