The Realm of Gods and the Tyrannical King

Chapter Five

A few days had passed since the conference with other political figures of the Divine Realm. Uzair hadn't made any moves since. As himself or the White Hood. He knew it was the best thing to do. As for the assignment Metatron had given Uzair, he was currently doing a bit of studying on the kingdom known as Rotesha.

Sitting at a table in the massive library in his father's palace, Uzair was reading a book about the history of the Kingdom of Rotesha. There were books all over the table. Some opened, some closed, some sitting on top of others. It was a mess. Uzair had found out quite a few things about Rotesha. They were a kingdom of great military strength and power in many aspects. The God of War ruled over Rotesha, which made sense as to why their military strength was off the charts. They possessed a great deal of skilled mages and sorcerers alike, along with others that focused more on non-magical combat.

My father wants to control that nation because of their military strength. But, the God of War stands in his way. Is he afraid of him? Her, possibly? These books never put a gender to the name. It's all very vague. But I guess that's why Rotesha has been closed off from the rest of the world for thousands of years. I don't blame them, Uzair thought. Rotesha was located on a massive island in the oceans of the Divine Realm. No one had been in or out for thousands of years. Or so people say.

Uzair closed the book he was currently reading, leaned back in the wooden chair he was sitting in and sighed deeply. So many thoughts ran through his mind at once. If the Golden Rebellion could get Rotesha and the God of War on their side, it could greatly boost our chances of victory over my father, Uzair thought. But, Uzair had a feeling that it wouldn't be so easy, and that it really wouldn't be working out the way he expected it to. He had to admit that he was curious though. Supposedly, this God of War had remained in his or her position of power for thousands upon thousands of years, even long before Uzair's father was born.

I must leave for Rotesha without my father knowing. If he knows I have gone to Rotesha, he will expect results upon my return. I will not do that to those people. This has to be discreet. Not a single person can know. Unless... I go to Rotesha dressed as the White Hood. If anyone sees, they may think that the White Hood is Roteshan. Yes, it's all coming together. I must prepare during the day, and leave at nightfall, Uzair thought to himself. His plan was quickly coming together. He could only hope that this would play out smoothly, however.

Later that night, on a well-hidden beach, Uzair, dressed as the White Hood, was preparing his boat that he would be taking to Rotesha. The final preparations were mostly finished, and the Prince was ready to set out into the seas. As he set out upon the beautiful oceans of the Divine Realm, Uzair would take a map out of a tan-colored bag that resembled an old scroll. Uzair rolled open the old piece of paper, revealing a map to Rotesha. Supposedly the only map to Rotesha that existed during the present day. Using the map, Uzair directed the ship in the correct direction, sailing all the way to Rotesha.

Arriving at around noon the next day, Uzair would dock his ship at the edge of the island on one of its beaches, then exit with his small, tan-colored bag on his back, straps secured to his broad shoulders. Standing on the lightly-colored sand of one of Rotesha's beaches, Uzair would lift both of his hands up, gripping the hood that sat upon his head, and dragging it down, letting the hood fall and rest upon his upper back. Uzair looked out into the distance, seeing a massive, gargantuan palace with a large city out in front of it. There was no mistaking it. That was the Kindgom of Rotesha. "It seems the map was correct," Uzair spoke to himself. If he was being honest, he had his doubts about that map.

Uzair began to walk forward, arriving at the main city in a matter of a few hours. Well, at least as close to it as he could get. Just before he reached a beautifully crafted stone bridge to get into the city, Uzair sensed a magical presence. A spell—multiple spells, had been cast here and was still holding.