Legends of Ragathor: Rise of Kyrotaar 2

Zaos

Blue hair waved through the air as he charged at me. I was able to raise my blade in time to parry and land a blow of my own, striking him hard on his chest plate with the flat of my sword. He was knocked back a few steps, leaving him open. Recklessly I dashed at him, only noticing his raised palm when it was too late.

"Jetala!" his voice rang. A moment later an invisible force pressed against me and I was pushed backwards and into the air. I landed with a hard thud on the ground, though my armour cushioned the blow. His discarded helmet lay beside me. Slowly and with confidence he strolled towards me, raising his blade. His arrogance was his downfall, for he was messing with a knight of Tandrastay.

"Natranta." I muttered with open palm outstretched. A dagger formed in my hand, unseen by my opponent. With a flick of the wrist I sent it flying towards his exposed face. At the last minute he caught glimpse of it and turned his head. The blade skimmed across his cheek, forming a line of blood in its path before it fell to the ground and vanished. This gave me a chance. I back rolled to my feet reclaiming my sword which had fallen from my grip when I fell. Before I could move he was upon me again, slashing with the fury of a lightning storm. I effortlessly used my own weapon to parry each of his intense blows.

"Dakarn." he grunted, and I felt the earth beneath me shifting at his command. I began to lose my balance and my blocks became less precise as he continued his assault.

"Sontai!" I called, feeling my body lighten. I was suddenly behind him, and my blade pressed against the back of his neck. My head went dizzy, that always happened when I teleported. I could see his body tense up under my blade. His own sword fell from his hand in defeat and landed upon the rocky ground beneath us.

"Va mulyat." he whispered. That meant that he surrendered. Around here, people speak in Ragathornian – the official and most common language of this world. I had heard of people coming from the other world who spoke a different language, though I had never encountered any of them as they were few and far between.

"Good session." I spoke cheerfully to my friend, though in my common tongue, "You're getting better." I withdrew my blade and sheathed it in my sword belt. Valdorn (my sparring partner) looked disheartened as he retrieved his gold-hilted weapon.

"Stop with the moody face," I teased him, "You did well. You may even be able to beat my grandmother now." I knew it was harsh, but I could not help myself. Luckily he saw that I only jested and allowed a grin to begin forming across his face. Finally a chuckle escaped him and I laughed too.

"It just irritates me that you always beat me m'lord." Valdorn admitted. Oh how it irritated me when people addressed me like that.

"I told you not to call me that," I reminded him, "You're my friend Valdorn, you can just call me by my name." He nodded.

"Okay...Zaos." he said. I grinned at him, swinging my arm over his shoulder and laughing. We had grown up together, but ever since I had become an official knight of our city, he (and everyone else) had started to treat me differently. I was only a year his senior at twenty, though he seemed to view me as so much older. Perhaps it was because of how quickly I had progressed in training school – surpassing him though he had started before me.

"Remind me Zaos," he said, dropping his smile, "How long have you been a knight now?" I thought about it for a moment, remembering the exact day I passed the final exam and received the blade which now lay at my hip.

"Nigh on four months now I think." I answered. He let out an agitated sigh.

"And yet still I am going through training, with no reason to believe that my name will ever be submitted for the exam." he whined, "Why are you such a good fighter?" I chuckled at this.

"Ha, it's because you can't have everything," I teased, "You already have the looks, now you want my sword arm too?" He smiled at me. Despite us both knowing that I was joking with him, what I said about his appeal was not false. His natural blue hair was brighter than the sky on the clearest of days, falling down to his shoulders – and his eyes brighter still. His skin; pale and flawless, with the smoothest hands I had ever felt – as opposed to mine which were hard and calloused from hours of constant training. And above all, the most alluring thing about him was that smile – so dashing that it could charm a priest into a brothel.

"Of course not," Valdorn said, turning to face me and standing a few inches taller than me, "I wouldn't deprive you of your best asset." I shook my head.

"A sword arm is no good without a sword," I pointed out, "This is my most valuable asset." I again unsheathed the fine blade. A one handed broadsword which shone with a silver tint, a golden gem stone in the pommel marking it as the sword of a Tandrastan knight.

"Go on, rub it in," my friend mocked, "Some people would give their own skin to get one of those."

"I have, remember?" I reminded him, removing my helmet and revealing the scar which crossed my face from my temple, over my eye, across the bridge of my nose, and down onto the opposite cheek. It was a mark which I received during the last battle in my graduation. My opponent had knocked off my helmet and was quick with getting in a lucky strike before I used my lightning magic to project a bolt into his chest, nearly killing him – so it was fair to say that I got my own back on him. In a way this scar proved my place amongst the knights more than the weapon did, though a scar was not exactly great at killing people. Valdorn winced seeing the scar, as he did every time he was reminded of it.

"See?" I said, "I'm not very likely to win the hearts of those around me with this awful wound." He moved closer, removing his gauntlet and brushing the soft skin of his bare hand against the cut.

"I think it makes you look tougher." he comforted me, a sincere smile on his face as he brushed back my long black hair and looked into my scarred eye.

"Can you see out of it alright?" he asked. I nodded.

"It was a bit blurred at first, but the healers did their jobs well to restore my sight." I informed him. However, despite this there were still times that I had difficulty seeing out of my right eye. Suddenly a third voice rang out, surprising me as not many knew of this secret training ground of ours. It was a rocky patch with little grass, hidden beyond a small congregation of trees east of Tandrastay.

"Sir Zaos!" the female voice hollered. I turned to see commander Amaranthae approaching, armoured similarly to me in Tandrastan steel – although while mine was an uncoloured metallic grey, hers shone crimson red like her own hair and marked her as a high up officer in the king's army. Over walked the fiercest woman I had ever encountered. I fell to one knee and bowed my head to show my respect – Valdorn followed my lead. She stopped a few steps before me.

"Rise you buffoons!" she snapped, "Time is of the essence." Something was wrong. While Amaranthae was indeed known for being cruel to those who ranked below her, she would not normally relinquish the opportunity to feel superior to others. Additionally I could hear it in her voice – the ordinarily calm commander now held a tone of what resembled panic.

"What is it commander?" I asked, getting to my feet, "Is it the Galanthrakians again?" She shook her head.

"I'm afraid that the situation is much direr than our worldly enemies." the commander stated. I returned a blank expression. The dark prince of Galanthrak had been leading his father's army to war with our people for decades now, and while only being a new knight I had already battled several Galanthrakian platoons and watched my comrades die. So how could this situation possibly be worse? Then I clicked on.

"You said direr than our worldly enemies Lady Amaranthe?" I questioned. She nodded and I turned cold.

"I know that they may only be stories to one as young as you, but we all know it is said that he once walked amongst the living." Amaranthae spoke.

"You two surely can't be talking about... him" Valdorn cut in.

"I'm afraid that we are," the commander told him, "Every citizen in Ragathor knows the old tale – that the demon king Kyrotaar rose from hell itself and enslaved the world, seeking to destroy everything in his path so that a new Ragathor could be born."

"But doesn't the legend say that he was defeated?" I asked.

"Yeah, by an unknown hero," Valdorn added, "And Kyrotaar fell back into hell where he would rot for all eternity – as the legend says."

"Well," Amaranthae grimaced, "It turns out that it is no legend, and that eternity is shorter than you might think."

"How do you know?" I questioned.

"The demons are returning." she replied, "We've had sightings of flying beasts blacker than the night killing people. These are not just bats nor the overactive imagination of commoners, we sent a scout thinking that these were just rumours – he returned without a right arm. Luckily none have reached any of the major cities, but reports are coming in from all directions. It's undoubtable, the demon king has returned."

"Then why hasn't he made a move himself?" Valdorn enquired, still sceptical.

"He's probably recovering his strength. He hasn't been in the world of the living for centuries, but King Jharak doubts that it will be long before he makes his move." she relayed.

"So why are you here telling us of this, of all people?" I questioned, "Surely we should be spreading the word to the other knights!" Amaranthae shook her head.

"The king does not wish to cause uproar in the city," she explained, "If we were to inform everyone, then word would surely get out and panic would spread. There would be riots. So for now he is keeping the situation under wraps and only informing a selected few knights."

"But why me?" I asked out of impulse. It was an honour to be selected personally by the king, but I had only ever met him once during my graduation to knighthood. There were hundreds of Tandrastan knights far more qualified than myself. The commander scowled at the rude outburst.

"It is an honour to be chosen, and you do wisely to not question the king's judgement!" she spat. With her face still twisted in disgust, she took another step towards me. Suddenly a flash of sunlight on steel hit me. Impulsively I stepped back and drew my blade, blocking the commander's attack. Her eyes met my own with fierceness.

"You want to know why you were chosen?" she called above the clash of steel on steel, stepping back before lunging again. I sidestepped and parried. Her head turned to me.

"It's because you're faster than I am," she said with irritation. She swept to the side and slashed at me; I blocked her blow and put her off balance.

"Despite the fact that I have trained for over a decade before becoming a commander, and another half dozen years since!" she yelled, then continued to speak as she charged me with ruthless strikes, "Every day that I'm not in battle, I push myself to my limits training to become stronger – and the days that I am in battle, I fight not only to keep myself alive but my squad as well. But still, you (a knight of not even half a year, fresh out of the training school) can block my attacks with ease." Her rant took pause, enough time for Valdorn to chip in.

"Zaos is naturally talented." he commented. Seemingly out of breath from her lecture, the commander simply nodded.

"That he is," she agreed, sheathing her blade and then looking at me, "Your swordsmanship is impeccable, and while your magical capabilities are not nearly as impressive, they still exceed those of many knights with far more experience. While some of your comrades may have died in battle, it is mainly the fault of your squad leader. The fact remains that without your input, your platoon would have fallen months ago." Despite her flattery, I knew that there was a catch.

"So what is it that I need to do other than keep this information to myself?" I asked. Amaranthae allowed a small smirk to cross her face.

"I see that there is no fooling you," she grinned, "The truth is that you're being told this because the king wants to know more. These demons may hold answers to how we can stop Kyrotaar from attacking. The old records tell nothing of how the hero defeated him or who that hero was. However, we're hoping that by capturing one of these demons we could get information. If we can track down where he is in hiding before he has time to fully recover, then hopefully he can destroy him once and for all. That is all I know right now. We're supposed to report back to King Jharak together." I looked to my friend.

"What about Valdorn?" I asked. She looked him over before shaking his head.

"He'll have to stay here." she told us, then turning to him, "And if you tell anybody of this, I'll cut off your balls. Understood?" With a face full of shock, he nodded. Without time to say farewell to my companion, the commander lead me back to the entrance of the forested area where her horse grazed alongside mine and Valdorn's. We mounted and began the quick-paced gallop back to Tandrastay.

The trees let out at the eastern wall, forged of white marble stone and looming thirty feet high. We slowed our pace into a steady gallop around the outside of the city. Figures could be seen patrolling atop the stone, keeping watch for potential threats to the city. We rode in silence for about ten minutes before reaching the east gate. Two guards stood before the closed entrance, adorning similar armour to myself. Their spears were raised at the sight of us – orders were called and several archers on the wall readied their arrows at us.

"State your business!" one guard commanded, stepping towards us. I sighed with aggravation. These were the same men who had stood watch when Valdorn and I left the city, yet they were still determined to make a fuss. I knew for a fact that they never made such a commotion with local commoners – they just despise knights. Luckily Amaranthae took charge.

"I am Commander Amaranthae – leader of the seventh squad of Tandrastay, and member of the king's council – and I will see to it that you lose that arm of yours if you don't drop your spear and let us pass!" Her words were fierce, and I was glad not to be that guard as I saw him turn pale. The other stepped up.

"Simply following regulations commander," he spoke smugly, turning to me, "Please state your name also sir." Amaranthae shot me a glare but did not protest to his request.

"I am Sir Zaos, knight of the forty-second squad of Tandrastay." I declared. The guards nodded to one another.

"Very well," one said, "Open the gates!" The archers atop the wall lowered their bows and began cranking the wheel that opens the gate. The huge wooden barrier opened outwards until there was enough room for us to ride in one by one, which we did so with no warning or hesitation. Once they were far behind us as we galloped swiftly through the streets of the city, Amaranthae spoke.

"Irritating bastards!" she snapped, "Just jealous because they couldn't fight their way into the army – useless good-for-nothings." I thought about her words as structures surrounded us in full swing. Wooden buildings scattered the streets aimlessly, housing the poorer residents of the city's outskirts – these streets where I myself as a small child had waited eagerly to see the knights gallop past. Soon white stone similar to that of the wall replaced them as we delved deeper into the heart of Tandrastay. Children gawked and pointed, playing, pointing toy swords at each other and imaging the glory of being a knight.

"Tell me sir Zaos," Amaranthae said suddenly, interrupting my thoughts, "Why did you decide to become a knight in the first place?" My answer was automatic.

"It was always my goal," I told her, "Ever since I was young, I aspired to be a great warrior, to fight for our great city." She nodded, and again silence came between us. Finally the castle came into view – a huge rock structure remaining unchanged for the last few centuries. A mote surrounded the building, spanning at least an eighth of the entire city. A single bridge led across the water to the only entrance. We rode two abreast with plenty of room to spare. A line of castle guards blocked us. Unlike regular guards, these did not hold a bitter resentment towards knights, and after affirming our identities let us straight through.

We left our horses at the stables and ascended the stairs to the room where the king held his council meetings. Though we could hear voices from within, the door was locked. Amaranthae pulled out a key and led us through into the room. The members within all sat around a large circular table, including the king who (much to my surprise) sat in a similar seat to the rest of his council. I saw a few familiar faces, along with people who I recognised from the sheer amount of descriptions I had heard of them. Regularly the people who sat on the council were the leaders of the first ten squads who always led the most important missions and assaults – obviously Amaranthae was one of them. Along with them were those responsible for finance, food and housing within the city. Finally there was the king and his personal adviser. However now it seemed that only the military leaders were there, along with several common knights like me.

"Ah Amaranthae, Sir Zaos, please sit down." the king spoke. I was always in awe of King Jharak; he was nearing fifty though he had the strength and strong will of a man in his twenties. His hair was jet black and his beard matched it, his eyes just as dark and fierce. His robes were not as grand as those which he used to address the public, though they still shone gold and red to match the colours of Tandrastay's flag. Despite his authoritative presence he was a light hearted man who had a soft spot for his subjects. We took our seats and the king nodded at us.

"As I was just informing everyone else, we are doing everything we can to tackle this situation," his majesty spoke, "Sir Zaos, I assume the commander has filled you in on the situation?" I nodded, unable to form words in the presence of this great man. In addition, the situation itself was ridiculous, just the idea that an evil demon king was rising from hell to try and take over the world for the second time.

"Now," a man with dark red hair said (I presumed it was commander Torriksho of the second squad), "To review, our first goal was to inform the leaders of the towns who don't yet know of this situation, so knights have been sent to Gallia, Vashti, Meira, Dyffros, Hycis, Zolosh and Elorshin. All other towns have received information either from sightings or the other major cities. So far only the knights who went to Meira and Hycis have returned."

"Which knights were sent?" Amaranthae interrupted. Another commander turned to her to answer.

"There were two sent to each town," she told us, "You'll know a few of them commander Amaranthae, there was Sir Orik, Lady Sharishtan, Sir Volodar, Sir Levos..."

"Ha!" Amaranthae howled, "You sent Sir Levos? He'll be too worried about how his hair looks to deliver any information!" A few laughs rang out around the council then died down quickly.

"As I was saying," Torriksho grumbled, "We're only informing the leaders of these towns as we don't want to cause a panic. Unfortunately Cluym, Karaz and Myrin have already suffered terrible attacks from these demons.

"What of the scout?" I ventured. Once more Torriksho seemed irritated at the interruption.

"He is being treated by our best healers; however he is not in a great condition. The demon bit his arm off after all. Anyway, our next goal is to find out more about these demons and hopefully locate Kyrotaar. But to do this..."

"We must capture one!" the king interrupted, his voice powerful and low, "Sir Morthen, Sir Zaos, Lady Shyk'az – this is where you come in." He addressed me and two other knights, "Up until this point you have only had the chance to prove yourselves as subordinates, however amongst all knights (other than commanders and those in the ten special squads) you have performed the best and stood out the most. Therefore you will each lead a team of ten knights to the cities which have been attacked." I raised my hand, too unsure to just outright ask the king something.

"Yes Sir Zaos?" King Jharak asked.

"Um, your Lord," I started nervously, "I was just wondering why you aren't sending people with commanding experience." Rather than yell or show anger at my question like I had predicted, the king simply shook his head.

"Unfortunately for the time being we are still at war with Galanthrak." he replied, "We can't afford to break up any squads, and to tell the truth you three are just as capable as any regular squad commander. I predict that once everyone realises how dire this situation is, all wars will go on hold while we deal with the problem – however, that has not happened yet so we must stay prepared. Sir Zaos you will go to Myrin, Lady Shyk'az to Karaz, and Sir Morthen to Cluym. Morthen, your task is the most difficult as you will have to pass through Galanthrakian territory."

"When will our squads be assigned to us?" Lady Shyk'az asked.

"You will depart in three days," Torriksho answered, "I suggest you take the time to prepare. You will each receive a letter telling you where you will meet them."

"With that you three are dismissed." the king spoke, and the three of us left the room.