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EmperorShizzy:
Hey bro, is the second part out for sales yet??

Not yet bro. I'm still working on it. I will announce here when it is ready.

holarbolu:
Reading this wondrous piece of yours bring to mind the work of a fave writer 'Sarah J Maas' THRONE OF GLASS

Sarah J. Maas is an household name in the YA fantasy category. I am humbled by this comparison. Thanks bro.

LarrySun.

RICKYMARIO:
kudos
Vantee20
This is a masterpiece

Thanks Ricky.

Aceed:
This guy needs to be applauded...


D9ty7

Divepen1

SheWrites

gaby

ghostwriter

ghostwritter

Redmosquito

kayemjay

Larrysun

Audreytimms

Ishilove

Royver


and the entire Nairaland verse...




We have a miracle after four years of labour




Vantee20 kudos

Thank you sir. All these bosses you are calling, they are people I want to be like when I grow up.

gtcoolboy:
y the story end like this na

Lol. The sequel will pick up from where this one stopped. Thanks for reading bro.

BishopZion:
Guy I have been refreshing the page for long hoping to read the next chapter. When are you doing that? don't let me take it personal with you bro.

You are the best.

Thanks bro. I have updated the story.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

An expertly executed gambade over a large log of wood obstructing the meandering pathway at the edge of the Euschires forest brought the horse and its rider closer still to their destination. They were now a few leagues away from the Southern gate of Casville. The horse was a thin, brown coated, two year old filly which the rider had paid twenty five Ciblis to get. The rider was Marcus, donning Sir Maxime's armour. Although the horse was not close to being as fleet footed as the good old Tramps, it had still pulled off a decent mileage and at their current pace, they would reach Casville before sun down. Marcus would then concern himself with looking for Elliott and the other Red Knights in Casville.

In the middle of pondering on where he and the others would convene since they had never discussed a meeting place in Casville before, Marcus saw something that shocked his wit away. Right before his own eyes, the front half of a giant cedar not far from him was sliding sideways, in the manner of a door and beyond the opening was a dark passageway that went as deep as eyes could see. Marcus looked away with some difficulty as he began to feel enchanted by the things he was seeing. He concentrated his efforts on getting as far away as possible from there.

"Come here!"

That command, delivered in a crisp feminine voice, seemed to come from everywhere. The drooping leaves and gnarled branches on trees, the little rocks that littered the path and the shrubs that lined it; everything seemed to resonate this sound. Marcus let go of the rein and closed his palms against his ears in an attempt to block out this dreadful voice that was threatening to drive him crazy.

"Bring him here!"

Blocking his ears didn't stop him from hearing the orders dished out by the peculiar voice, because now the order came from inside his own head, like a thought or a prick of conscience. It was terrible, aye terrifying. And there was worse to come.

This is not happening. I am dreaming!

A big tendril, as thick as a nautical rope, shot out of the yawning, black aperture in the tree and wound its thick self around Marcus' neck. The sinister tendril began pulling him with great viciousness towards that wide dark hole in the tree. Marcus gasped for breath as the accursed tendril drove the wind away from his windpipe. He had to wedge a hand between his neck and the knot formed by the tendril in order to prevent being smothered, while his other hand worked the horse. He couldn't maintain that balance for long. A sharp tug from the other end of the tendril yanked him off the horse and heightened the strain against his neck.

Not one to give in, Marcus reached for the sword on him. He unsheathed the blade, getting a firm grip on the hilt despite the clamminess of his hand. Surely, this would end it. With all of his might, he struck the tendril a blow that was powerful enough to snap a chain, but it was useless. The sword bounced back with a curious clang, failing to do any damage. The tendril, as if in retaliation, now pulled him towards the tree with more fierceness and before long, Marcus was lying supine, gasping for breath in the pitch blackness he had been trying to get away from earlier.

"Come to the great hall."

Marcus scrambled to his feet without hesitation. It was difficult, nay impossible, to disobey the voice. He didn't know where the great hall was, he couldn't even see anything but he submitted himself to a force — similar in a way to the one which filled him with superhuman strength in time of combat — which now led him through the darkness till he got to a threshold where there was dazzling light beyond. He was now in the great hall.

"I'm here," Marcus said. "What do you want from me?"

There was no response, not even the echo of his voice. Marcus found the eerie silence in the lit hall more disconcerting than the gloominess outside. He looked around, trying to figure where the light came from — there were no brands, candles or torches. He was still looking for the source of the room's lighting when he heard behind him the thumping footsteps of someone of monstrous avoirdupois. He turned in time to see a massively built, three eyed being with trunk-like limbs and a hanging forked tongue charging at him. Such monstrosity!

"You. . . You were the one who called me?"

The monster's response was a bellicose jab to Marcus' head with one of his behemoth fists. Marcus evaded that punch and twisted his way away from a knee aimed at his midriff. He wasn't as lucky with the third attack, the monster's elbow catching him on the nose. Still reeling from the impact of the blow, Marcus was treated to a kick so vicious that he collapsed to the ground, howling.

The monster smiled, apparently pleased with the havoc he was wreaking. "Hear, O hear the chosen mortal. How he howls!"

Feeling the rise of that raw energy that made him incomparable in combat, even against the finest knights around, Marcus spat some blood, grabbed his sword and scrambled to his feet. "Now let's hear you howl."

They glared at each other, eyes flashing, weapons readied for attack — Marcus' weapon being his sword; the monster's, his whole body. Marcus charged swiftly and wasted no time in striking the monster's neck with such a force that should cleave the head off, but for the second time that evening, his strength and skill with the sword amounted to naught. The monster, unharmed by Marcus' blow, grabbed at the young warrior's sword and once he was able to wrest it from him, twisted it out of shape with a single turn of his large, hairy hand. Not satisfied with the twisting he had done, he lunged again at Marcus and grabbed him by the arm, delivering a vicious twist to that appendage.

Hot white pain surged through Marcus' arm. The pain was as unbearable as the knowledge that the strange energy was useless against this beast. Marcus' adversary wasn't quite done. He rammed his bestial head against his dazed opponent's chest, sending him sprawling to the ground and coughing up some more blood.

"Enough, Wurst!"

That was the voice which brought Marcus into this recess in the tree.

"My lady," Wurst said, bowing slightly. "I see nothing in him. He can't be the chosen one."

"It is him."

Now, the lady was in Marcus' sight. She was a tall thin woman with massive black hair and prominent fingernails. She was clad in a glittering green robe. Her face was kind, yet firm. She walked over to where he lay, groaning in agony.

"Open your mouth."

Marcus obeyed through the maddening pain he felt. The lady placed a lozenge pill on his tongue.

"You are healed," she said with a kind smile.

As soon as the diamond shaped pill dissolved on his tongue, every bit of pain he felt melted away. It was surreal. He was even able to turn his arm, which had been hanging at an odd angle, back to the normal position without any pain.

"Thank you." Marcus said. "Why did you bring me here?"

"You were headed for Casville. It is dangerous for you to go there. Lady Suzannah and those phantoms would smell you out once you enter the city and you will be killed before you know what is happening."

"What phantoms? I can defend myself against anyone."

Wurst sniggered.

The lady shook her head. "Phantoms are not humans. They are awakened bodies of dead veteran warriors. Against them, you will fare as badly as you fared against Wurst here because they are beings of magic against which your powers have little effect. You will not survive if you go Casville."

"How do you know this?"

"Well, I see things."

Marcus sighed. "Haldrinne, who sees things too, said I must go to Casville to wait for my friends to bring a certain golden chest."

"Their going to Carzef was to fulfill a certain purpose. You being here fulfills another. Here you will be trained to harness your true power and no, I'm not talking about that strengthening wave that comes once in a while. I speak of something greater."

"I wonder why Haldrinne or Malzene never mentioned this."

"It wasn't for them to," she replied with a shrug.

"And how do I know I can trust you?"

The lady crouched before Marcus and ran a spindly finger down a side of his face. Marcus felt a bizarre sensation, a strange feeling of having been touched by this lady in this way before. How could that be when he had never met her before? Surely his mind was being messed with.

"You must trust me, Xyriel Hyle," The lady whispered in Marcus' ear. "Because I am your mother."

Yesterday, I tried updating but I was banned and my post hidden by the anti-spam bot. Let me give this another trial.

stuff46:
Vantee baba always delivers the best, still I read

Stuff my bro. Been a while. Thanks for dropping by.

Jackossky:
I mean Enigmatic stories

Oh, okay. Thanks for the compliment.

Cadec007:
wow! thanks man!! I never gave up on the story!!

Thanks for sticking around bro..

emerald18:
hmmmm

Hmmmm?

Jackossky:
My thirst for strange stories makes me yearn for more of yours.

Hello writer,

Strange story you say? Okay. Thanks sir.

Ifeoluwatee6745:
Update Update Update

Done Done Done.

Crystalprince:
You are really good man!

Thanks sir.

Cadec007:
Pls any day u update mention me cos i am still following

Updated!

bigbauer:
I'm impressed not just by the story but your tenacity. I'm happy you've chosen not to abandon the story. Keep it up

Thank you sir.

RICKYMARIO:
kudos vantee I can't wait to see the end of this wonderful story

Only a chapter to go. Thanks bro.

* * *

Sir Millicent leaned against the balustrade on the highest floor of the citadel with a half full chalice of Northern wine in his hand. He was watching a training session of a troop of imperial soldiers going on in an adjoining field. He watched the drilling with growing interest until a hand laid on his shoulder made him turn away. It was Finn, he had just returned from Carlen's two days before and his clothing was padded around his chest region where the bandages were applied.

"I've checked you in the court," Finn said. "Have you heard the news?"

"What news?"

"Carzef has been pillaged by savages. One of those who escaped after the savages arrived said they were burning houses and killing people at will."

Sir Millicent's face clouded. "'Tis not them I blame. My Uncle should have rooted out those rustic bastards long ago. Say, when did the attack begin?"

"Yesterday, in the morn."

"And there were no military outposts there?"

"None. The town was raped without resistance."

Sir Millicent took a swig from the chalice. "Get a good man to go down there with five hundred men. Let them stop the savage nonsense."

"And if f they are outnumbered?"

"Let them send for support. Be gone."

Finn nodded and skittered off to obey Sir Millicent's command. Just as Sir Millicent made to turn back to the training he had been watching, two Phantoms walked onto the parapet, bearing a large chest made of gold. The Phantoms set the chest down before Sir Millicent and stood at attention..

"Pray, what is that?"

"The chest bears the flaming sword, the only weapon that can bring about your downfall," Someone who was just walking onto the parapet said. The person was Lady Suzannah. "So I wrote an edict in your name, sealed it royally and sent the Phantoms to get it down here before it could fall in the wrong hands."

"Priceless woman, what would I do without you?" Sir Millicent said. He crouched beside the chest and ran his hands over the markings on it. "Such a beautiful holder for a dangerous weapon. Just like the beautiful body houses the dangerous mind eh?"

Next, Sir Millicent tried to open the chest but it didn't yield. "What's happening here?"

"Only people with the right powers can open it," Lady Suzannah said. "As far as I know, only Marcus Elymus can open it."

Sir Millicent exhaled. "I am tired of listening to the boy's merits. I will have to do something about him very soon. Now you, break the chest open."

The Phantom which Sir Millicent commanded swung his mighty blade and brought it down with superhuman force on the chest. The sword was smashed into pieces. And the chest remained undamaged.

Lady Suzannah chuckled. "Even blades forged with high magic won't destroy it."

"Well, well. You two, take the chest into the royal vault and seal it in," Sir Millicent said as he drained the chalice and tossed it over the parapet.

The Phantoms carried the chest away, leaving Sir Millicent and Lady Suzannah alone on the balcony.

"The big day draws near," Lady Suzannah said. "Have you decided on what to do with Tremor and D'Aubriere?"

"Public execution, of course. Nothing else will satisfy the people."

"Good," Lady Suzannah said. "And you have not been coming for our nightly engagements of late. Is something wrong?"

Sir Millicent grinned. "Ah, I have been trying to conserve my strength. You know, I wouldn't want to swoon during my coronation."

"What if I do more of the work this time?" Lady Suzannah asked as she sauntered closer.

Finn's hasty return deprived Sir Millicent of giving a reply.

"What is it, Finn?" Sir Millicent asked. "I thought you had gone to assemble the men."

"One of the guards saw this just outside a serving house near here. It must have fallen off the bearer."

"Where? Alin's?"

"No, Zeloe's."

Finn showed Sir Millicent what he brought. It was a chain with a globe surmounted by the letter G as pendant.

"Galleine," Sir Millicent breathed. "Galleine is back."












THE END OF CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

Clouds gathered overhead, blocking out the sun and casting a sombre shadow on the terrain below. Through the window of a deserted cottage, Melissa watched the rapid darkening of the sky and fancied it as a sign of the skygod's disapproval of the ongoing bloodshed. The savages were locked in a battle with the men of Carzef, who were supported by the Red Knights and so far, more blood has been spilled and more men have fallen than Melissa had ever seen in her life.

The Red Knights had not needed an elaborate plan to halt the killing of Carzefians. A single shot from Xesandra had sent the high priest of the Savages into the raging fire in which the body of the sacrificed Carzefians were still burning. The men of Carzef had been emboldened by this sight and many of them had grabbed the savages nearest to them, seeking retribution for the gross atrocities they had been subjected to. The savages had been left stunned by the sudden downturn in their fortunes as the conflation of Red Knights and Carzefians put them to sword.

Now, the battle was far from over. The savages were down to a few dozens yet they didn't give in. The savage folk had strong anti-surrender traditions. They were trained never to turn away from battle whether in the euphoria of victory or in the sting of defeat. They would fight on until the enemy was completely crushed or they were totally vanquished.

As the battle raged on, Melissa watched with blossoming pride as her brother, Alan decimated the savage ranks with swift, purposeful swings of his halberd. The truth is, the savages were getting lashed and Alan was the chief whip. He struck every savage that strayed close to him with exemplary vigour and strength and it didn't seem at all like his energy was flagging. Melissa had seen him fight many times, mostly undignified fist-fights over gambling debts incurred at obnoxious alehouses and on some occasions, sword fights with seething cuckolds but unlike those times, she felt neither embarrassment nor fear. She only watched in awe as her brother covered himself with glory. And blood.

While Alan made her proud with his exploits, Xesandra with her nimble running and efficient shooting made her feel useless. She was there hiding when the dark lady was killing the Savages in scores. For a while, she wished she had Xesandra's keen eyes and quick hands, Alan's brute strength, Elliott's courage and Sir Harding's experience. Even young Royce's mastery of the twin daggers was impressive for he held his own quite well against the savages.

In a move that would be the theme of Melissa's nightmares for days to come, one of the savages, angered by the unending damage caused among his tribesmen by Alan, leapt at the fiery redhead from behind and wrestled him onto the floor. Melissa's heart went still as her brother disappeared from her sight. For a while, Melissa saw neither her brother nor the accursed savage as she frantically scanned the areas around the site of the scuffle. Then she saw the savage rise, raising a bloodied dirk aloft. Even from the considerable distance, she could see the smile of triumph on his face. Without doubt, her brother was dead.

"No!" She screamed in horror.

Thand, who had been napping, was instantly at her side, covering her mouth to prevent her from giving off another scream that may attract unwelcome attentions. He pulled her away from the window to a sitting position where she could no longer see her brother's killer. She screamed, kicked and struggled but she was no match for the man despite the fact that he was injured.

"What happened?"

"Alan. . ."

Thand wasn't sure who Alan was but he knew this little lady in front of him was bereaved. "I'm sorry. Just keep calm."

Melissa knew all sense of calm was lost as far as she was concerned. Her beloved brother was dead, gone forever. She felt submerged in a lake of pain and sorrow. Even guilt gnawed at her heart. Alan would never have died in the hands of a savage if not for her associations with the Prince which led to the rebels kidnapping them on their way to the trade mission at Sassule.

Torrents of hot tears gushed down her cheeks, blurring her vision. She cried so much that her head became fuzzy, the shouts of battling men and clashing of weapons outside the cottage slowly becoming indistinct to her ears. Soon the only thing she heard was Thand's soothing words and even that slowly became inaudible as she drifted asleep.

She woke up much later to the gentle patter of rain on the roof and thundering footsteps just outside the cottage. She shook her head to clear the fuzziness therein. The interior of the cottage was darker now, but she wasn't sure if it was due to the rain or the passing of time.

"They won. The savages are crushed," Thand offered. To Melissa, if there ever was a pyrrhic victory, this was it.

Now, the company of Red Knights returned. Xesandra entered first, her vesture dripping of a mixture of blood and rainwater. Elliott and Moreau followed. They bore a wide slab of timbre on which a shrouded body lay. Overcome by fatigue and despair, they dropped the slab and flopped to the floor beside it, not saying a word to Melissa and Thand.

Melissa felt her heart collapse within her when she saw her brother's covered corpse. She scrambled over to where the slab was and knelt beside it, her hands quivering as they moved to pull the sheet off Alan's face so that she could gaze at his features again.

"Don't, please," Xesandra said in a tremulous voice. Her red, teary eyes suggested that the wetness on her face wasn't entirely due to rainwater.

"Please, I have to."

With unsteady hands, Melissa pulled the shroud off her slain brother's face. His hair wasn't red and his lips not fenced with a fancy moustache. His facial hair was too abundant to be Alan.

"By the Twins. . . Sir Harding!" Melissa gasped. "How. . . How?"

"He was surrounded," Xesandra said between sniffs. "We couldn't save him."

Alan trudged in just then, leaning on Royce for support. There were cuts on his face and there was a deep cleft in his chest; the wound inflicted by the savage Melissa saw. Melissa leapt to her feet at once. Here was the man she was mourning, alive, still breathing. She rushed to his side and swept him up in an embrace.

"Where is the chest?" Thand asked.

Silence.

"Did you guys get it?" Thand repeated.

Again, Thand got no answer. The warriors stared into space, none of them seemed willing to talk.

"Xesandra, where is it?" Melissa asked.

It was Elliott who answered. "We didn't get it. The chief monk at the temple said just yesterday, a group of armed men came to him carrying a letter that bore the royal seal. The letter, written in Sir Millicent's name, ordered that the chest be released to the men. There was nothing he could do."

"But we can't let them get away with the chest," Melissa cried. "That is the only way to stop Sir Millicent. Can't we ride after them?"

"We can't," Elliott replied. "A few questioning led us to realise that the men who that took the chest were really phantoms. We cannot attack them. I think, it's over. This is the end of our rebellion against the state. We have lost the battle against evil."

In the soft glowing evening light that poured into the room through an open window, Melissa could see the disappointment and despair slapped on the faces of the warriors. Truly, it was over.

Evold:
Wow Thanks 4the updates.Still following

Thanks for following.

Oscilo1:
Nice storyline Nice storyline

Thanks Oscilo.

purples25:
I'm sorry o, I'm just joining. It's like I didn't know about this earlier. Pardon please.

You are welcome and no, you don't need my pardon. Go ahead and read. I'll likel to know what you think of it when you are done. Once again, welcome.

Godwinfury:
*jumps in delight * Perfect!!

Thanks Godwin.

Cadec007:
pls dont abandon the story......i am still following ;-)..... Thanks

I don't intend to. Thanks for following.