Spirit Animals: The Third Devourer War

The Return of King Feliandor

King Feliandor walked the land Erdas once again. He and his army of Conquerors had set up camp in the woods by the beach. His crocodile lay next to him as he sat on a wooden chair inside one of the tent's. The young King had been deep in thought with his hands under his chin. He questioned if he was really alive or if it was Hell.

The witch, who called herself Theodora had approached him only a few days ago and said she had resurrected him. Feliandor thought that she had gone mad because it sounded ridiculous. The thought of it made him shiver, but he remembered quite clearly when the Greencloak named Tembo killed him in the First Devourer War.

His war.

It was also very obvious that a long time had passed since he had fallen. Stetriol looked different - healthier than before. Or maybe it was just the beach, and all of Stetriol's people had died out. Today, Feliandor would travel to his kingdom and retake his throne.

Feliandor's royal adviser, Salen, sat across from him on the other side of the table. They had been looking at a map of Stetriol together, it's edges almost ripping.

"It's most likely out of date now," Salen said. "So much time has passed, there are going to be changes to the land."

"Don't worry about the land. Worry about my kingdom," Feliandor hissed as his hands became fists.

Salen looked up at him. "We have to, in case there's some sort of river on the way there we will know about it."

Feliandor shook his head.

- - -

That morning, Feliandor had left his Conquerors and went to his kingdom alone. He travelled on one of the horses all day, constantly thinking about the past. It had been Kovo and Gerathon's fault for his death after all, and he wanted revenge.

I'm going to cut off your heads, filthy beasts! he thought to himself.

As he arrived in the city, he stopped his horse and stared at the castle. It had not changed since he was alive, and to his surprise the area was swarming with people. Shops were open, kids were running around playing games, everyone looked so much happier.

But why?

Was he not good enough back then?

Feliandor frowned before making his way to the castle. He clutched onto his crown which was in the satchel tied around his waist. He would show them who he really was. The King grinned at the thought of summoning his crocodile, as he knew it would strike fear in everyone's hearts.

Before going up the steps into the door of the castle, he dismounted his horse. Two guards also stood at the steps, and he rolled his eyes before approaching them.

Surprisingly they did not stop him as he went up the steps. He glanced back at them over his shoulder, his velvet cloak billowing out behind him. Then he felt himself run into someone.

"Who are you?" a large man said.

Feliandor stepped back. "Excuse me?"

"You're not one of those Redcloaks are you?" the man drew his sword.

"Redcloaks? What?" The King's eyes narrowed.

"You don't know the Redcloaks?" he questioned.

"No, now if you excuse me, I must keep going," Feliandor pushed passed the man.