I
In a half lit room, two man sat, one opposite the other. One of them had a huge pile of paper in front of him.
“I highly value your time,” said the paper man.
“I know,” replied Prince Davram. “The story I’m about to tell is a true one, for the most of it I was a witness first hand. Some parts were told after some time, but I remember them well. The parts where I’m not in them are told in third person and the pasts where yours truly is are in first person.”
“Shall we get started?”
“Yes,” was the reply.
II
Three hundred years before the Hal Emperor ascended into Heaven. Shadow of the dark slowly falls on the world, somewhere in the High Mountains, in a dangerous place even for those who are prepared for the worse, a place where wolf come only to mate and raise their young, a piece of unexplored wilderness hidden from the eyes of the curious world.
A thunderbolt danced across the murky, night sky. Signaling, that a storm would soon follow, it always does. The forest was silent, silent as a grave. Nothing moved, everything was silent, the whole world was silent. Or was it? A single candlelight shined brightly from one of the windows a small house.
The windows were plain and simple, but strong enough to withstand the merciless blows of the wind. There was nothing strange about the house; it looked like any other house to the normal observer. But on closer inspection, the house was anything but ordinary. The front doors were large, wooden and strong to withstand repeated blows from Eathir, the newest and largest model of a siege ram ever created. What was so interesting about this house? Maybe, it's the simple design of the house, or the house is architectural wonder. Nothing of the both, the house was an important place on its own. Emperors of the Idar Dynasty have been born here since time immemorial, a tradition that is still passed down from generation to generation. The old ways are slow to die.
A man, hidden in the shadows, stood on the porch. His gaze was fixed on the crimson red moon, a sign of wars to come. He never believed in folk tales and never will. There were, too many, uncertain things in their stories. Whatever the moon represented, it was nothing good. He stood there, waiting for it to start. The birth ceremony, as they call it now, a fancy name for deciding a faith of a child. He waited. The night was quiet.
A woman opened the door, looked at him. Only then, she did move a step closer. He turned his head; his blue eyes were uneasy. She was the first to break the silence:
"You think it will work out?"
"I don't know," he replied, "we can only wait and see."
"That's what worries me."
"I know."
"There is nothing that I can do."
"We wait."
She returned to the door, opened it, and turned once more towards him. He stood there like a statue.
"It's time," he said softly. He moved to the door, looked at the moon, and entered first.
The hallway was large and dark. They walked silently. He suddenly stops. His gaze wonders from shadow to shadow. It was just the wind. They continue onward. The room was lit only by candlelight. The man knelt in front of a woman that was ready to give birth. The agony lasted a few minutes until the birth started. The child was born, the future emperor. The gods will decide what will happen next.
The man took the child into his arms; his face was stern. The child looked at him with curious eyes. There was something unique about this child. The woman moved closer, in her hand; she held a small bucket filled with water. The man held the child to the edge of the bucket, the water moved. Small circles appeared on the water's surface. The child looked with amusement. His eyes followed the irregular patterns that burst on the wild water's surface. The man moves a bit forward, his face was shocked. Their thoughts were united as one. The man knew, what happens next.
A figure appeared from the bucket, lifted itself to their height.
"It's time," he said, "to decide. None can go against faith. None can."
"It's not in our hands," the man said.
"Let's begin."
The water moved, divided itself into three parts. The first part transformed into letters with sharp edges, the second became astral signs with rounded edges. The third part, the largest, was a mix of them, the edges were a mixed.
They hold their breath. The signs are always different, depending on the generation.
To them, it lasted for an eternity. The room was silent. The man looked in every direction. Nothing moved.
"It's over," the figure said. "The child's faith is decided. A new dawn rises."
"A dawn of the future," the woman said. "The spirits have spoken."
"I know," the man said, looking at figure that returned to the water.
And, it was so. The child will grow to be the light that will guide the people to a new and better land. His way won't be easy, but he will succeed or die trying, there is no other option. And so it was that a child, named Davram, was born. That child would be the salvation of light and of the people that still remembered the old ways.
"What now?" she asked.
"Now, we wait."
The emperor looked at the child at slept in his lap. Everything depended on that small newly-born child. Everyone in their line had experienced nearly the same destiny, and yet again, his fate was different.
And so, thus, our story begins. The land was at peace, the towns were flourishing. A shop here a shop there, the towns were ever-changing. A time of peace ruled throughout the land. For how long will it last, nobody knew, most didn't care, they were living in the present and the present was pleasing.
UnionThe Union slowly grew in power, starting from a small, small nation in the most Northern part of Yoistu. The neighboring countries didn't even try to conquer it, not even once, in its long and boring history. Famous people came and went, the Union, with its strictly know hierarchy, remained the same. So, it was for years, until like everyone else, they, too, started to change. Even faster than their economic progress, was the growth of their ambitions. If ambitions were a thing to trade, they would be the richest state in Yoistu. With the recent change in the administration, the new leader, Hokun, prepares for a speech:"Not a bad one, I'm sure.""Truly,"the head minister said. "You are right, indeed.""Tell me, how long does this act go on?"Hokun turned."What do you mean?"the head minister wasn't pleased."I mean, when will the truth be revealed to the people?""All in due time,
LoversPeace truly came, but for now one person, the current hero of this part of the story, wasn’t at peace. That person sat alone, on the futon, cross-legged in the elegant room.Thoughts raced through Lady Amalia’s ever working mind. Constant ideas of greatness flooded her every waking moment, even more she liked that, that grand feeling of satisfaction. Detail plans, every step precise, every move calculated, without flaw. If only she had courage to do it. She wasn’t a brave woman, and yet again depending from what angle looked, she had a certain type of courage.There is no doubt that she is a pretty woman with diamond-shaped face, full lips, a straight perfect nose, deep sapphire eyes. Her long raven hair fell in waves down her richly decorated robes. A large crest, a jade dragon and the symbol of yin and yang behind, was proudly placed on her ornate golden belt. She was more than proud of the crest.
I Arthada, the border with the Velesar. Two armies readied themselves for one final assault. Victory or defeat, there is nothing else, there is no middle ground. King Hirtan and King Reta, where at each other's throats for months, finally, it's time to decide the victor. King Reta and King Hirtan have the same number of men, 20, 000-strong. The commanders gave the signal; the army was divided into smaller groups. They waited, for the horn to blow. Their nerves were on edge, Finally, the horn blows, they charge. The battle is even, for now, both sides have severed heavy loses, if the battle continues, they will lose the numbers they have. King Hirtan, himself has decided that it's time to finish the battle. “Your Grace, you must hurry!” the general shouted behind the king. “I won't leave them!” the king turned to the general; half of his face was covered in dried blood. “Your face…” “It's nothing, just a flesh wo
IIIThe professor was writing in his study; he didn't care what was happening out side. His notes were much important that some parade. They were scattered everywhere. He found a few of them that were important and started arraigning them in on a single piece of paper. He was doing his second edition of the Great Sieges; he always liked the leave notes behind his book. People liked to read them. The only thing that was bothering was which note to place first; he decided on the elven days of the week.Days in a week: Meversizin Returdin Tuerdus Wesard Frieldas Xerdes ZesturdNote: the names are used from the elven language; the tradition at that time was to use a lot of elven names. So, t
VThe professor stopped, read everything again, after that he decided to continue to write. Maybe, it's time to change the wrongs he made in the first edition.My background as a historian the Irith University is truly shown here, I think. I always liked sieges; ever since I was a small boy, I would always sit and listen to stories that the retired soldiers told. Recently, I started writing my book the Great Sieges. While I was gathering material for my book, I found out that I didn't anything about the Revendir battle, or as someone likes to call the Battle of Revendir. I only knew that the battle was fought sometime in the early years of the Gurtal Age; that was all I knew. In the royal court things have changed, I became the royal historian. My first thing on this new position was to find something about this battle. At that time I never knew that King Arthar gave reinforcement to the Wolf clan. I was so pleased. I showed my findin
VIThe throne room was empty that day, nobody entered, and nobody exits. Lord Iritain and Lord Gertan looked at the throne, an uncomfortable wooden chair. That chair was used as a throne for three generations. There must be secret to why it is used.“I still don't get it, why they use this chair?” Lord Iritain looked at the arm rests, they were ordinary arm rests. They was nothing strange about them.“It keeps them focused on the speaker.” Lord Gertan said behind him.Iritain turned. He greeted him with a discussed look on his face. Gertain was that type of a character that would do anything to save himself. On the other hand, Iritain admired him, for his never-ending struggle for power.“How?”“if the chair is comfortable one than the king would fall asleep, this way he's constantly focused on the speaker.”“You mean to say, that they are focused by
VIIIThe sorcerer was already asleep, when the king entered. The king stopped for a moment, looking deeply into the sorcerer's eyes, they were widely opened. The king made a silly face, waived his hand in front of the sorcerer, there was no reply. What else could he do? The sorcerer was asleep, no, he was sleeping like a log. The king took one feather from his hat, and started tickling the sorcerer.“Very funny, Your Grace.” the sorcerer said.“You're awake!” the king said.“Yes.”“I need your help.”“What kind of help? A spell or two? Something complex?”“Yes.”“Leave it to me.”“I want you to scare someone.”“Easy.”The sorcerer entered the circle, looked at his sides, and started speaking the magical words. A layer of black smoke appeared around the circle. The sorcerer continued.
XIritian entered the room, hoping to find Abigail. The room was empty, no, the whole house was empty. Everything that was important, she has taken with her.In the middle of the room there stood a table. It was strange for him to see that table there. On the table there stood a letter. He opened the letter and read what was written inside:My lord,I have talked to Lady Joanna. You must know that all is well and she is in love with the king. She waits the king's move. I hope that you are well. We are all, only pawns in the king's game. I bet, that you already know this. Watch yourself, there are people that will kill for you position in the king's court. You have played you part, I will now, play mine.I hope, that I will see you soon.Yours truly,AbigailIritian left the house with a smile, the first one in three years since his wife has left him for