Han Chronicles

Han Chronicles Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

The dark velvety blanket glided awkwardly on its course unsure of where it would strike. The scene played below it is none better. Considered itself already contaminated, abused too its worst nature, it didn’t bother to follow its choices it usually played, with a rolled of a massive dice, causing an erupted roar that trembled the earth below each time it did. But there was no roar that day. Only lights flashing and slashing the life out of every poor unfortunate souls that happened to be nearby. It felt sorry but didn’t care for it was not at all considered in it being. Why should it? After all the beings caused upon it and its brethrens it was unforgivable, not to be mentioned again. It had lost every kind of softness it used to have. Pollution. That was the cause of its anger that day as it lashed out its bolts of lightning unto the living below it with no mercy.

The people ran, ran with all their hearts probably in their stomach’s pit or in their throats struggling to breathe normally when all they could do was to try to restrain from screaming. See, there was a war between the human leaders. A war to show who is boss and who’s not. However, as the war progressed, nature decided to interfere too for what the humans had done to its former beauty that was captivating even further that the eye could see. Its beauty cannot be described by mere words, words that the humans created throughout their generations. Words are not a natural creation unlike the living things named by them.

The people or pheasants mostly, fell harshly as a bomb exploded nearby sending some flying in mid-air. Picking themselves up after countless hours of running was no easy task. Hunger and fatigue was well upon them by the 7th day, clouding their mind causing them to lose their will power, the only source of their survival so far, to dwindle and fade into the abyss. Many wished to remain in the blissful scene that was once their lives. Though simple on an island as big as one third of Africa today, they lived in harmony, respecting one another like a dream in 2012. Yes. That was how it was some few hundred years ago during the medieval times...

And those were the times when magic was free.

No course. No license needed to dwell with the elements around every living creature of that land, a land surrounded by deep blue waters nearby a continent unknown. Magic was in their bloods, running through their very veins and flowed to the universe like it’s the most natural thing. As natural as birth itself.

However, it didn’t stay that way for long.

High Priest Alburton, their leader’s closest advisor who resides in the mountains, decided that there were too many corruptions circling the people which caused them to not pay their taxes. Being the top ranked leader of that island, it was no surprise that he had called upon this war to stop the many rivalries arising from their hidden identity all this while. A war was seen fit to overcome the problem.

Or so he thought.

He made a big mistake when he allied with the magical dragons that once roamed free on the earth where they lived. The Four Elemental Dragons were the light of their kind, the ones whom every creature was well aware of. They were the rulers, the source of all magic not mentioning the fairies, elves, witches and more unknown to the early humans. Fearless as they were, the dragons had only one goal in mind during the war when they agreed to make a pact with the high priests of the mountains: assassinate all living creatures.

For what you may ask but answer no one does find. Not when the last of its kind was killed in that High Chief Shantu hands. No one ever did find the true reason of their doings. But it was clear that involving them in a war would be suicide.

The dragons did not hesitate to breathe fire upon the earth nor drown the runaways with freezing cold water and, not to mention, buried the others alive. Cruel as it may seem, it wasn’t the worst one yet.

Out in the near distance, King Phillip’s castle was up in flames faster than they could retreat to their once safe haven. The black coal smoke ascends into the already dark sky and made it into night, blocking out all possible sunlight in the morning and turned hell by night. After 7 days of hanging on, having your safe haven up in flames wasn’t a welcome wish for victory.

Before King Phillip or any of his followers had time to sob, a large group of 1000 men or so gathered around them, cornered on one side of the castle’s wall there was no escape. As a man of honour and trust, Phillip knew better than to surrender. And so he gave a war cry and flung his sword round, aiming for the enemies’ hearts.

The enemies, however, quickly parried away upon hearing the cry which they took as a warning, a signal to be alert and watch out for any harm that might come their way. One of them at the front row, a tall-built man with a mighty strong arm filled with bulging muscles visible from afar, tried to land a blow on the King’s shoulder as he was about to recoil from his first fling. It missed by mere millimetres thanks to his still good eyesight despite his lack of proper rest. The man would have tried harder but his fear for his master distracted his concentration for he wanted the king alive. Possibly injured but must be alive. As alive as a breathing dragon that was descending upon them that instant.

The wind rustled below their feet sending off dusts above the dry ground as a 10 metre long rust-coloured dragon flapped its bat-like wings, positioning itself at an angle ready to land. But Phillip carried on in his demeanour on the battleground which is total aggression. The enemies however retreated slightly arousing some hesitation in his steps but he continued all the same until his men had to pull him back for the dragon was close to the ground. The people below could feel the heat emanating from its massive body. Phillip struggled slightly before giving in to be rejoined with his comrades for soon the dragon’s rider was visible atop its scaly back that was burned in some places and a few wounds here and there.

A loud thud sent rumbles unto the earth as the dragon landed, first on its hind legs then followed by the forelegs. Its long serpent-like neck swayed gracefully towards the ground looking at Phillip in the eye. Phillip’s gaze was locked on its crimson gold eyes, a spectacular sight if it wasn’t for the war.

“Arrest him!” Came the voice from the dragon.

Without further a due, the 1000 or so men rushed in and seized all of King Phillip’s men which were only about 200 or so. Phillip tried to fight them off but soon the tall-built man was upon him, his head loomed over Phillip’s by a foot. The score wasn’t even. It wasn’t fair. But since when does fairness play a part in the game of war?

Clasped in the man’s hands, Phillip stole a look on the dragon rider...

The man jerked Phillip’s hand harshly causing him to look back in front again. His face scrunched up in pain but he still let it linger on the dragon’s back trying to catch a glimpse of its rider.

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

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comments?

ahh busy x100 Chinese new year here where i lived

so this is a special treat to my loyal readers =)

enjoy

Cheers