Morning came with the first rays of sunlight beaming through the slits of the tall curtains surrounding the room. Lord Mok creaked his eyes open relunctantly. He felt a heavy migrain, and struggled to keep his balance as he got up from his slumber. The pain was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the humiliation he had suffered the night before at the hands of the young Prince Robson.
Staggering to his feet, he reached for his rapier, only to find it missing from its usual place beside his study.
'Where's the dang sabre!'
The door immediately swung open, and two guards raced into the room. One of them began to search frantically, while the other bowed down at Lord Mok's feet. At last, the younger of the two found it, lying just inches away under the South Lord's bed.
'Give it to me, you ingrates! And begone!'
Bowing, they left. They have both served the South Court for as long as they could remember, and it was wise not to temper with his lordship's temper. Like a towering wall of flames-undeciding, unreasonable, and most of all, unremorseful. Lord Phillip Mok III was latest in the bloodline to take the throne. He was nowhere famous for his generousity towards the people of the South, but rather for the corruption he had lead on. His nephew, Prince Wai Kit, was destined for the throne, if not of tender age.
The morning rays of the sun that warmed the courtyard, with its blossoming morning glories did nothng to ease his anger. With each heavy foorstep he strided across the massive hallways of marble, lined with gold and draps of the finest silk curtains in the land. Guards in heavy armor stood at attention, thier rifles at thier sides at the sight of thier Lord and Master. The journey to his court was a long one, and he prided himself in it. The longer it took to get there meant the more you have to boast when it comes to land and wealth. Many had understood that. Oh yes. Especially those feeble kingdoms who dared cross-swords with him during his invasions. The king knew nothing of them, of course. He managed a laugh, and his journey came to an end outside a huge gate, more of fine crafted oakwood and enforced steel than an entrance to his court. But being the richest of the four Lords was not enough. It never was. He had an ambition, and he knew the methods he had to undergo to get it. He pushed the heavy gates open, and entered, entering only to find his court already in sesson.
At every corner of the grand hall, his elite guards, the Knights of MoonGlade, stood at attention at his arrival, their swords held close by their side, ready to defend their master shall the need arise. His subjects, mostly of currupted ministers and bishops, a selected group of no more than twenty of his own men, were busy discussing a matter, as if he were not present.
'But won't it be a little harsh, I mean...' said the first minister.
'Oh come on now, really... It not like we haven't done it before.' said the second, waving his hands in the air.
'He's right. Somehow we need to teach these pheasents thier place! That will teach them to start another rebillion, won't you say, General? ...General?'
The general was about to speak, but bowed at the sight of his lordship. The others followed, nervously shifting thier tunics uneasily.
Phillip stood there, gazing at them as thought about to errupt. But he saved it. He had better things to take care of. He crossed the hall, ignoring the rest of the contraband, and took his seat at the throne, the crest of the moon glowing brightly in the morning sun.
'It has come to my attention...' he started, taking his time. He loved the effect he had on his subjects.
'...that some of the people present, are beginning to forget their places as well.' The first minsiter looked down, trying hard not to look guilty.
'No matter. We shall deal with matters of meagre importances later. Now, report! Report!'
The ministers took theirs, submitting report after report on the current situations of the South County. Phillip paid little attention, but stopped short when it came to a report on another burnt village near the borders.
'....reported that the casualties were unknown. But the attackers left in a hurry, milord. We sent the scouts to pursue them on horsebacks, but they were long gone into the forests. Interestingly enough, the flames were that engulfed the village, milord.... it was.... well, blue. And the dead pheasents all died in a similar manner. All were slashed in multiple ares, mostly near the head. No one survived.'
Phillip was glum. He bit his bottom lip. He knew what he heard was pointing to the same manner, but he could not risk another humiliation, at least not untill he has enough proof.
'Halo, rise.'
The general rose, and approched Phillip, his head still bowed.
'How long would it take to prepare a regiment?'
The general looked uncertain, but answered, 'Two days at the least milord. The knights are still at war with the rebels at the borders of the Middle Kingdoms, and our castle guards are the only avalable forces at such short notice. I could send a messenger to the front, and....'
'No. I want those thorns out of my sight as soon as possible. It would take too long... How about my nephew?'
The general looked up this time.
'Prince Wai Kit? He is at the mountains of Oddessy at his training, milord.'
'Summon him, and prepare an army of ten calvary. Send him to the forest of Norshire as soon as possible.'
'Send the Prince to find the beast..'
He looked around. The ministers looked at him, confused?
The general apporoached Phillip and shispered, 'Send Wai Kit to find the beast, sire? But he is too young!'
'Its about time my nephew saw some action instead of reading about it from some old haggard in the mountains.'
'But my leidge, the late Lord specifically orderd that...'
'Don't remind me about my brother, general! He should be happy I'm filling in for him, what more looking after his son! Now, gather the troops, and I want him on a horseback and on his quest by nightfall! Do you understand!?'
The general retreated, bowing. He knew that Prince Wai Kit was the rightful heir to the throne, but since the late Lord William died of a mysterous disease, he had named Phillip the next heir, until Wai Kit was of age. But all in the South Lands knew it was no disease. Phillip had murderd his brother, and sent the prince away to a faraway mountain to learn from some old goat. But that was a rumour. No one dared say a word of it.
After the proceedings were over, General Halo took to the stables, whilst the rest of the minsiters and bishops returned to their live of pleasure and luxury. His family had served the House of Mok for many generations, all pledging thier oath to protect thier Lord and Master. But ever since Phillip was Lord, it was hard to tell if that if services were of any importance any longer. Pihillip preferred to indulge in women, wine and festivities, while his people suffered in hunger and poverty. But he had no choice. He was tied on the bonds set by his ancestors unto the founders of this land, and that was something he had grown up to learn and guard with his life. The only hope he had, was for the Prince to be safe so he could return the South County to her peaceful and prosperous self once more.
He walked a series of complicated stairways and corridors, until finally arriving at the stables outside the castle's gardens. The House of Mok was enormous, and anyone could easily get lost within its grounds without a proper guide. But he didn't need a guide. Not an old-timer like himself. He turned the lock of the door twice clockwise, once anti-clockwise, and another twice twice clockwise, and it gave way. Why wouldn't it? He pushed the heavy doors open, and was greeted by the only friends he had within the castle grounds.
The stallions were magnificannt. Each carefully handpicked from the best breeders, and fed with the best wheat and sweet hay. Even the water they drank was from the peaks of Mount Oddessy, said to be the purest and can boost the vitality of the soul. The stallions were called Dark Night, for they were swift and quick and the South calvary prided themselves in being thier riders. Their speed was unmatched, and whats more, they were as silent as night. They could sneak up on the enemy in the night in massive numbers, without ever being noticed or spotted by the sentinels.
Halo sighed, and patted their nozzles as he passed each one of them. He had helped trained them all, and every one turned out to be strong, fit and ready for battle. Especially one. It outshown the rest in terms of agility and strength, and can run for days without even a drop of water. It was called Whirlwind. He didn't bestow that name on the stallion, however. Prince Wai Kit had spotted the young faul when he accompanied his uncle out hunting, and saved it from a raging wolf. His uncle was furious, but let the young price keep it, providing he left for Mt Oddyssey at the age of twelve. The young prince eagerly accepted the proposal, and tended to it like a mother towards her son. The faul grew up to be strong, and accompanied the prince wherever it went, often letting him pat its nossle and feed it apples. It loved apples, as much as the young prince. Once, when the prince fell ill in the stables, the horse galloped all the way to the court to get their attention. It got a good whipping, but the prince was saved, at the least.
The general opened the stable doors, and Whirlwind galloped forward. It seemed happy to see him. The old general took out a piece of an apple from his breafast, and fed it. It munched it up right up, neighing with joy. Seeing the horse was like staring at the prince. The general sighed. He had always loved the young prince, and ever since Lord William passed on, the young lad's smile was never seen again. He felt sorry for him. If only there was a way to cheer him up. It was rather unlikely now, with Lord Phillip wishing for the prince to go on another pointless crusade. The prince was turning 18 next month, and the general was worried that Lord Phillip would try something to retain his throne.
He patted the horse one more time, and reached for the saddle. Whirlwind stood still as the general equipped the horse, and then, they galloped off. The guards opened the gates at the sight of the general, and saluted, as he raced down the stony passage that lead to the forest of Norshire.
What he didn't realise, was the shadow that was observing him the whole time from behind the rose bushes. Its bloodshot eyes blinked, and with one last flap of its wing, reached into the skies after the general, the cursed violet symbol of the Succubus clearly visible on his left shoulder. The guards at the gates gasped at the sight of the demon, but with one lowly cry, felt blood gushing out of thier slithered throats, as two more demons appeared from the shadows.
That night, a storm spread throughout the drakness of the clouds, the shrieks and cries of anguish filling the air from the North court, its once silk curtains now tainted with the blood of Phillip and his men.
Staggering to his feet, he reached for his rapier, only to find it missing from its usual place beside his study.
'Where's the dang sabre!'
The door immediately swung open, and two guards raced into the room. One of them began to search frantically, while the other bowed down at Lord Mok's feet. At last, the younger of the two found it, lying just inches away under the South Lord's bed.
'Give it to me, you ingrates! And begone!'
Bowing, they left. They have both served the South Court for as long as they could remember, and it was wise not to temper with his lordship's temper. Like a towering wall of flames-undeciding, unreasonable, and most of all, unremorseful. Lord Phillip Mok III was latest in the bloodline to take the throne. He was nowhere famous for his generousity towards the people of the South, but rather for the corruption he had lead on. His nephew, Prince Wai Kit, was destined for the throne, if not of tender age.
The morning rays of the sun that warmed the courtyard, with its blossoming morning glories did nothng to ease his anger. With each heavy foorstep he strided across the massive hallways of marble, lined with gold and draps of the finest silk curtains in the land. Guards in heavy armor stood at attention, thier rifles at thier sides at the sight of thier Lord and Master. The journey to his court was a long one, and he prided himself in it. The longer it took to get there meant the more you have to boast when it comes to land and wealth. Many had understood that. Oh yes. Especially those feeble kingdoms who dared cross-swords with him during his invasions. The king knew nothing of them, of course. He managed a laugh, and his journey came to an end outside a huge gate, more of fine crafted oakwood and enforced steel than an entrance to his court. But being the richest of the four Lords was not enough. It never was. He had an ambition, and he knew the methods he had to undergo to get it. He pushed the heavy gates open, and entered, entering only to find his court already in sesson.
At every corner of the grand hall, his elite guards, the Knights of MoonGlade, stood at attention at his arrival, their swords held close by their side, ready to defend their master shall the need arise. His subjects, mostly of currupted ministers and bishops, a selected group of no more than twenty of his own men, were busy discussing a matter, as if he were not present.
'But won't it be a little harsh, I mean...' said the first minister.
'Oh come on now, really... It not like we haven't done it before.' said the second, waving his hands in the air.
'He's right. Somehow we need to teach these pheasents thier place! That will teach them to start another rebillion, won't you say, General? ...General?'
The general was about to speak, but bowed at the sight of his lordship. The others followed, nervously shifting thier tunics uneasily.
Phillip stood there, gazing at them as thought about to errupt. But he saved it. He had better things to take care of. He crossed the hall, ignoring the rest of the contraband, and took his seat at the throne, the crest of the moon glowing brightly in the morning sun.
'It has come to my attention...' he started, taking his time. He loved the effect he had on his subjects.
'...that some of the people present, are beginning to forget their places as well.' The first minsiter looked down, trying hard not to look guilty.
'No matter. We shall deal with matters of meagre importances later. Now, report! Report!'
The ministers took theirs, submitting report after report on the current situations of the South County. Phillip paid little attention, but stopped short when it came to a report on another burnt village near the borders.
'....reported that the casualties were unknown. But the attackers left in a hurry, milord. We sent the scouts to pursue them on horsebacks, but they were long gone into the forests. Interestingly enough, the flames were that engulfed the village, milord.... it was.... well, blue. And the dead pheasents all died in a similar manner. All were slashed in multiple ares, mostly near the head. No one survived.'
Phillip was glum. He bit his bottom lip. He knew what he heard was pointing to the same manner, but he could not risk another humiliation, at least not untill he has enough proof.
'Halo, rise.'
The general rose, and approched Phillip, his head still bowed.
'How long would it take to prepare a regiment?'
The general looked uncertain, but answered, 'Two days at the least milord. The knights are still at war with the rebels at the borders of the Middle Kingdoms, and our castle guards are the only avalable forces at such short notice. I could send a messenger to the front, and....'
'No. I want those thorns out of my sight as soon as possible. It would take too long... How about my nephew?'
The general looked up this time.
'Prince Wai Kit? He is at the mountains of Oddessy at his training, milord.'
'Summon him, and prepare an army of ten calvary. Send him to the forest of Norshire as soon as possible.'
'Send the Prince to find the beast..'
He looked around. The ministers looked at him, confused?
The general apporoached Phillip and shispered, 'Send Wai Kit to find the beast, sire? But he is too young!'
'Its about time my nephew saw some action instead of reading about it from some old haggard in the mountains.'
'But my leidge, the late Lord specifically orderd that...'
'Don't remind me about my brother, general! He should be happy I'm filling in for him, what more looking after his son! Now, gather the troops, and I want him on a horseback and on his quest by nightfall! Do you understand!?'
The general retreated, bowing. He knew that Prince Wai Kit was the rightful heir to the throne, but since the late Lord William died of a mysterous disease, he had named Phillip the next heir, until Wai Kit was of age. But all in the South Lands knew it was no disease. Phillip had murderd his brother, and sent the prince away to a faraway mountain to learn from some old goat. But that was a rumour. No one dared say a word of it.
After the proceedings were over, General Halo took to the stables, whilst the rest of the minsiters and bishops returned to their live of pleasure and luxury. His family had served the House of Mok for many generations, all pledging thier oath to protect thier Lord and Master. But ever since Phillip was Lord, it was hard to tell if that if services were of any importance any longer. Pihillip preferred to indulge in women, wine and festivities, while his people suffered in hunger and poverty. But he had no choice. He was tied on the bonds set by his ancestors unto the founders of this land, and that was something he had grown up to learn and guard with his life. The only hope he had, was for the Prince to be safe so he could return the South County to her peaceful and prosperous self once more.
He walked a series of complicated stairways and corridors, until finally arriving at the stables outside the castle's gardens. The House of Mok was enormous, and anyone could easily get lost within its grounds without a proper guide. But he didn't need a guide. Not an old-timer like himself. He turned the lock of the door twice clockwise, once anti-clockwise, and another twice twice clockwise, and it gave way. Why wouldn't it? He pushed the heavy doors open, and was greeted by the only friends he had within the castle grounds.
The stallions were magnificannt. Each carefully handpicked from the best breeders, and fed with the best wheat and sweet hay. Even the water they drank was from the peaks of Mount Oddessy, said to be the purest and can boost the vitality of the soul. The stallions were called Dark Night, for they were swift and quick and the South calvary prided themselves in being thier riders. Their speed was unmatched, and whats more, they were as silent as night. They could sneak up on the enemy in the night in massive numbers, without ever being noticed or spotted by the sentinels.
Halo sighed, and patted their nozzles as he passed each one of them. He had helped trained them all, and every one turned out to be strong, fit and ready for battle. Especially one. It outshown the rest in terms of agility and strength, and can run for days without even a drop of water. It was called Whirlwind. He didn't bestow that name on the stallion, however. Prince Wai Kit had spotted the young faul when he accompanied his uncle out hunting, and saved it from a raging wolf. His uncle was furious, but let the young price keep it, providing he left for Mt Oddyssey at the age of twelve. The young prince eagerly accepted the proposal, and tended to it like a mother towards her son. The faul grew up to be strong, and accompanied the prince wherever it went, often letting him pat its nossle and feed it apples. It loved apples, as much as the young prince. Once, when the prince fell ill in the stables, the horse galloped all the way to the court to get their attention. It got a good whipping, but the prince was saved, at the least.
The general opened the stable doors, and Whirlwind galloped forward. It seemed happy to see him. The old general took out a piece of an apple from his breafast, and fed it. It munched it up right up, neighing with joy. Seeing the horse was like staring at the prince. The general sighed. He had always loved the young prince, and ever since Lord William passed on, the young lad's smile was never seen again. He felt sorry for him. If only there was a way to cheer him up. It was rather unlikely now, with Lord Phillip wishing for the prince to go on another pointless crusade. The prince was turning 18 next month, and the general was worried that Lord Phillip would try something to retain his throne.
He patted the horse one more time, and reached for the saddle. Whirlwind stood still as the general equipped the horse, and then, they galloped off. The guards opened the gates at the sight of the general, and saluted, as he raced down the stony passage that lead to the forest of Norshire.
What he didn't realise, was the shadow that was observing him the whole time from behind the rose bushes. Its bloodshot eyes blinked, and with one last flap of its wing, reached into the skies after the general, the cursed violet symbol of the Succubus clearly visible on his left shoulder. The guards at the gates gasped at the sight of the demon, but with one lowly cry, felt blood gushing out of thier slithered throats, as two more demons appeared from the shadows.
That night, a storm spread throughout the drakness of the clouds, the shrieks and cries of anguish filling the air from the North court, its once silk curtains now tainted with the blood of Phillip and his men.
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