Hero of Ranora
Prologue
Neyom sprinted forward, his sword extended and ready to strike. Cries of agony rose up from all of his victims, filling the forest with screams of dread. Those who were unlucky enough to still be alive didn’t remain that way for long. The bloodthirsty monarch continued his mad rampage, leaving no one alive behind him. Neyom had one goal and one goal only. As much as it pleased him to destroy every living thing around him, that is not what he was ordered to do.
His orders were clear, and the consequences would be dire if he failed. Neyom continued forward, plowing down his remaining foes. “Don’t let him pass!” One of the soldiers shouted.
“Famous last words,” Neyom hissed, his sword penetrating the soldier’s armor and making its way down to his heart. The soldier gasped his final breath, and then crumpled into a lifeless heap. Neyom wiped his sword casually on his cape, as if it didn’t bother him that yet another life was ended by his hand.
As soon as Neyom had struck down everyone in the forest, he muttered one word; “Shlormnan!” Almost instantly, the forest was caught ablaze, yellow and orange embers leaping off the charring trees. Neyom stood watching from a distance, hoping that his signal would be seen by his target.
The fire spread quickly, past the forest, into the meadows, and traveled further than Neyom could see. All animal life tried to escape the fiery grasp of the dancing flames, but the madman could not allow that. Leaving anything alive after a search was against his direct orders. “Shlormnanor!” Neyom screamed. In just seconds, cries of various animals and injured people could be heard as a strong explosion wiped out everything in a ten-mile radius. Everything but Neyom.
That should do the trick, Neyom thought, swelling with pride. Now, he was to get what he was looking for. Now was the time for him to reclaim his throne as king of Ranora. This was his only chance to prove himself, or so the hooded figure had told him.
Neyom waited impatiently for what seemed like hours, hoping that his target would come running to him, pleading for mercy. After what seemed like eternity, he saw a lone figure striding up to meet him. At long last, things seemed to be going how Neyom wanted them.
As the figure drew closer, Neyom posed tall and proud, the stance of a warrior. The visitor removed their hood, revealing a tall, strong woman, with pointed ears marking her as an elf. For the first time in many months, Neyom was looking directly at the only woman who had ever taken his breath away.
“Sara, my love,” Neyom said chillingly. “I trust that you have the cargo, yes?” The two monarchs eyed each other, an awkward silence passing over them.
The woman stood tensely, her arms wrapped around the object that Neyom had been after this whole time. “Hand it over, Sara,” Neyom commanded. Sara just looked at her former lover with a fiery look in her eyes.
“If you want him, Neyom, go get him,” Sara said. She un-wrapped the bundle in her arms, revealing a healthy baby boy; her and Neyom’s son. Neyom rushed toward her, his sword aimed towards her heart. Sara gave her son a long, pleading look before giving a mighty shout. “Stay away!” She screamed. She raised her arm, motioning swiftly.
Neyom felt the ground shake violently beneath him, knocking him off balance. The ground began to crack, forming giant chasms that led to the planet’s core. Sara cradled her child close for one last time, before she did what had to be done. She gently tossed her child into the air, her eyes flashing a bright emerald green.
Exhausted by the expulsion of so much energy, she collapsed, her weak body crumpling upon the charred ground. After heaving out her last breath, the once radiant queen was thrown into one of the many deep chasms caused by the quaking, never to be seen again. The child, however, began to float. While he was in mid-air, a faint, green light glowed behind the child. Neyom gasped in astonishment as he saw his son fade into the light.
