King Adair is the last king in Eldoria. All others have fallen to the Varanthian Empire. Hunted by gods and monsters alike, Adair finds help in the most unlikely of places, the Goblin Lands. Can Adair and the Goblins overcome the darkness that has...
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Seth Varanth
"Come on, come on, do keep up, Adair!" Seth shouted, laughing from atop his horse.
The king had ran for miles in the dark without stopping, and Adair's ankle was causing him agony. He was stumbling along, and ended up falling several times, being drug along for yards before managing to pull himself back up. The thorny brambles pulled at his clothing and skin. The sun was yet to come up, and every root, every branch, seemed to try to thwart the king.
By dawn, they were approaching the black sand coasts of the Kaelian Sea, and it was even harder for Adair to keep up. The sands were loose, and shifted under the king's feet. He went down, the sand scraping at his flesh, stinging his eyes, and getting into his lungs. Just when he thought he could bear it no longer, Seth stopped his horse. A little ways down the shore was a ship. There were a group of Varanthians guarding several Kaelian prisoners, each of whom were also bound in a similar fashion as the king. It made Adair's heart hurt to see his people so.
Seth hopped off of his horse and knelt down to the king. He grasped Adair by the hair and forced his head upward, as the king lay gasping upon the cool sand.
"You see that? Your people? All your fighting, and you still ended up our prisoners. All those who died ... that's on you." Adair turned his eyes to the group, the Varanthians were prodding them up a gangplank onto the ship. Seth grabbed the king and roughly hoisted him to his feet. He withdrew his sword and cut the king free from his horse. Seth then wrapped the end of the rope round his left fist, and poked the small of Adair's back with the sword held in his right.
"Walk."
Adair walked. Or stumbled. Twice he fell, and Seth kicked him hard in the ribs till he somehow found the strength to pull himself back up. At last, they made it to the ship. He was forced inside the hold with the other Kaelians, some he recognized as his knights, others as townsfolk. The poles were cut from the prisoners arms, and in turn, each was shackled to the ship's walls. It felt good to sit at first, but as the long hours played out, and his legs became cramped and sore, he would have given anything to stand for a while. Even lying down was impossible.
It was in this brutal fashion that the prisoners were transported to the Empire. They were barely given anything to eat, weren't ever unshackled, and were only given sponges wet with seawater to drink. The smell soon became unbearable, and it was hard to breathe for the stench. The journey lasted over a week, or so Adair guessed. There were no windows in the hold, and it was perpetually dark within their confines. There were multiple deaths among the prisoners, and the Varanthians would come down once a day to remove the deceased, hoisting the bodies unceremoniously over the side of the ship and into the sea.
During the nightmarish trip, Adair made the acquaintance of a young boy. He was separated from his family and terrified. Adair told the boy stories of his own childhood, of how he had studied hard and fought harder until he became the head knight of the Order of the Kaels. How he and his brother would chase the firelight bugs when dusk fell across the land and, the last rays of golden light touched upon the open meadows. He would talk until the young lad fell asleep, his head resting on Adair's shoulder, dreaming of knights and vast fields of gold.
