Sorardia, the Tale of an Outcast, King, and Inventor

Chapter 1: The Man in the Scarf (The Third Hero [Phillip])

I woke up to the sight of light streaming through the windows. I looked around my room. It was regal, fit for a king. Green walls, blue ceiling, and a royal purple carpet. It was Sunday and sunny it was. All was well, all was good. There was no evil today. I threw on a shirt, leggings, and my favorite robe. It was purple, with blue stripes down the sides diagonally and green lining at the edges. I pushed open the classic, wooden door and walked into a long hallway. The hallway was lined with paintings of old earth, from my ancestor's school, to his house, and even his church. There were also paintings of my ancestor's friends houses, churches, and families. I was third in the line, over a period of eight thousand years. The people of Sorardia lived long, were immortal even, only dying by a weapon, normally defending Sorardia and not stealing from it. My father still reigned as king, and I learnt from him, being his one and only heir. I was supposed to know how to reign in case of his death. In secret, I learnt how to fight, favoring an axe. My instructor being a mysterious man, with blue armor, and a pole-ax of sorts. I held it once, and felt it brimming with power. My father never approved of fighting, not even to defend a country. He was a pacifist, and thought politics the solution to anything and everything. I disagreed, and my grandfather disagreed, but my father was stubborn, thinking that the God we serve, the all powerful God who created everything just by speaking, hated battling for anything. But as I studied the bible, and learnt from my grandfather before he went to defend Bloodonia from a Darkeon attack, the Lord God was an expert in strategy, fighting styles, and so on. My father disagrees, why I don't know. But as I thought about it more and more, I was more convinced that it was true. As I walked to the hallway, I studied the door once again, and it never ceased to amaze me how intricate it was made. It was a hard wood, likely Imbirian ebony, with intricate silver designs, and some Watorian sapphires within the circles made by the silver.

I pushed open the door and walked inside the throne room. There was a girl with a sword inside a Watorian coral, one of the toughest substances in the empire, cage. She sat calmly, while the guards told her to bow to the king. She wasn't unattractive. Having blonde hair, a swords woman's body, green armor, red and blue pauldrons, and just plain blue jeans.

"I will bow only if you give me a larger space to be in," She said blatantly. He was impressed. She must've had some skill to be unafraid of the soldiers of Sorardia. And as blatant as she was, he doubted she was beaten.

"Drop the blade then!" The commander instructed. She saw me and motioned for me to come over. I ran over and she handed the blade to me. I was dumbstruck. I took the blade, plain and medium weight, easily wieldable. The commander opened the door of the cage, and the girl calmly walked out and curtsied. I admit I was a bit surprised at her politeness. Most warriors when captured would try to escape via attacking the guard and taking his spear. It was obvious she didn't want to escape, nor hurt anyone in the room.

"Why is this girl brought before me and yet she seems to be polite and ready to serve?" the King questioned.

          "She killed thirty of our men!" the commander replied.

          "That's a lie!" the girl retorted. "Look at my blade! Only blood on the hilt right? Not the blade!" Phillip looked at her blade. Clean but for the hilt.

          "She's right. Nothing on it but the hilt. Likely knockout blows," he defended.

          "And how would you know of this son?" the King wondered.

          "Common sense. The hilt is hard so it would be pretty easy to knock someone out," he replied.

          "I see. Well so be it. That's still thirty men," the King said. "Throw her to the dungeon."

          "It was fifteen and they attacked me first!" She defended. Phillip believed her, the King and his men didn't.

"And how can we believe you? The one that was captured? My men are truthful and never lie," The King replied. "Your accusation is-."

          "Invalid?" A voice said from the crowd. Everyone looked towards the entrance. A man in a scarf, hood, and different colored shoulder pads, one blue, the other gray, was waiting in the doorway. He had blonde hair with blue eyes. "Is that the best answer you can do? Perhaps she was attacked by your guards, and it was half the amount and not thirty. This is Sorardia and I believe it's time I reveal who my small group is. We are the Legendari. We are devoted to protecting Sorardia as our ancestors did before. However, our numbers are still not at the stage they were in the olden days. So we are searching for other people to-."

          "To do what?" The King fumed. "The Dark King hasn't been seen since he was vanquished! So what is it you plan to do?"

          "Perhaps he will come back...or perhaps another evil will rise. Sorardia must have protectors in case that day comes," the man declared. "Perhaps it will be one of your men who attack Sorardia, or even you!" He had gone too far.

          "My father would never do such a thing!" I yelled. "He is a just and good hearted man, wiser than you ever will be!" He turned towards me.

          "You're the descendant of Phillip the first King aren't you?"

"Yes," I replied. "And who might you be?"

"Who's armor is this? Surely you've studied what this armor is?" The man questioned. "If not then why?"

          "Because my father thinks fighting is wrong and anything related to it is wrong,"

"Ah. Well that is very unfortunate because he is completely disregarding the fact that some of the heroes of Sorardia are warriors, so apparently, he is saying nothing related to it in any way is right, and it doesn't matter what it is. What if a friend of his, who has been his friend for a long time, becomes a fighter, would he then exile him?!" the man exclaimed, looking angry. "You did do that to your own best friend! My father was exiled to where? The Dark Isle? Then why don't you exile every single citizen of Sorardia? They are all fighters! You are downright incorrect about fighting. Fighting because of greed is disgusting, but fighting because of your family is right!"