Fighter of the Fallen Kingdom

The beginning: Chapter 1

The walls of the prison were grey and damp. Trickles of suspicious-looking dark liquid ran down the walls. The moonlight slanted in from the thin slab that had been cut high in the wall as a window. From my position in the corner of the small room, I could see the thick clouds diminishing the weak rays of moonlight and the trees whose skeletal limbs looked as if they were reaching out for the sky-towards freedom.

But freedom was a paradise that many of the prisoners locked up on this remote island off the shore of Oasis, didn't want to think about. I had heard their weak cries myself and it only hardened my resolve to get out and save the innocent.

A door down the hallway opened with a loud clang, at the sound, the cries of the prisoners grew louder, their arms reaching out between the bars for the guards who beat their arms with their spectres.

Heavy boots resounded through the walls and a large figure stopped outside my chamber and like all others, he wore his steel warrior padding over his chest, back, legs and a helmet with the sign of two glowing red spears crossed over his chest. He peeked in, curious at the silence that came from within and couldn't supress the shiver that went down his spine.

I thought about what I looked like from his eyes and saw the reason to his fear. My height of 6 foot 9 inches, broad shoulders and sinewy muscles all served to make me look intimidating. My clothes were torn and cuts and bruises were all over me, but my green eyes pierced through the darkness with a silent fury that could easily catch anyone off guard.

The guard quickly regained his composure and puffed up his chest. He jangled the keys as he inserted them into the lock and opened the bars.

He looked at me expectantly, but I didn't move from my place.

He gulped visibly and grabbed his spectre with a blood red stone set in the top that was leaning on the wall as if to gain confidence.

"You requested for your book to be returned." He took out a book with a satin red covering and weighed it in his hand. "And since it passed inspection, you can have it back." He held it out for me to take and I let the silence stretch before I stepped forwards slowly.

He relaxed as I took the book from him and went through the pages. Yup everything was in order. I looked back up at him and grinned.

He never saw it coming.

Weren't they trained to expect the unexpected?

And yet I had snatched the spectre and struck him across the jaw within the space of a second. He let out a grunt and fell to the floor with a thump. I hid my book in the hidden pocket of my shirt and grabbed a cloak off the guard and pulled the hood up so that the upper half of my face was hidden.

I was about to leave the spectre behind but thought better of it-it served as a good weapon. I then grabbed the keys from the floor and sprinted down the hallway to all the chambers to seek out my comrades before I freed all 30 of them.

I would be insulted at the shock on their faces when they saw me alive and doing well on my promise to free them but I was busy executing our escape.

We made our way down the narrow hallway and tuned out the pitiful cries of the real murderers and criminals in the chambers as well as their grimy fingers that feebly clawed at us as we made our way past - thier faces desparate, their eyes wild. They deserved to rot here for their sins.

Despite my being blind folded as I was led through these halls 3 days ago, I remembered each footstep and each turn in my mind. And I was proven right as I found the room in which the prison guards had thrown our weapons in before jeering in our faces.

My younger brother Nicholai grabbed a sword and strapped it across his back before taking two hand pistols. He then stood guard while the rest of us could grab onto our things. I grabbed 2 hand pistols like him and hung them from their place on the low hanging belt on my hips as well as my set of bow and arrows which I swung onto my back and then I went for my sword which was still in its' leather sheath which i hung horizontally across my body so that it was near my arm and ready to be used at any given instant.

There were a couple of moments of grunting, cursing and fists to each other faces as my men fought over whose weapon was whose and after a whole lot of glaring by me, my men stood scowling in front of me ready to go.

I allowed a cold smile to turn my lips before I said,

"The guards are drowsy with beer and while I will say that they deserved to be struck down in the most brutal way - we must make haste if we are to continue our journey."

My men just grinned back.

And then we set off towards the entrance, guns blazing, the glint of the silver of our swords as I slashed through the air and the guards fell like bowling pins, blood spattering on the walls. Years of training sure came in handy as we moved as one formation.

20 minutes later, we were trudging through the forest. While my men were silent and keeping alert of our surroundings, I knew that we were all thinking of what we had to do next. The task that lay ahead was shrouded in doubt. It was hard distinguishing the truth from the twisted tales that came from decades of story telling around the fire.

But it was all going to be worth it - it was after all, our last, final attempt at rescuing our fragile world.