The Legend of Sariolla

The Beginning

To watch it all burn felt more like a dream. There was no way, no chance the South had succeeded. We were too prepared, too meticulous. Yet the flames were climbing higher, engulfing the remnants of my short childhood. A part of me wants to die here. A moment later, anger seizes me at such cowardly thoughts. I'm far from finished.

My parents are dead. My father burnt alive, strapped to his throne. My mother threw herself from the roof before they could rape her. Pride pulses over the anger. Everything else is useless to me now.

I'd never killed a man before, but tonight I'd already lost count of the blood on my hands. And I had only just begun. They'd pay for their actions. Every last one of them, they'd pay with whatever was dearest to them and nothing less. Whether it be their lives, their wives, or their children. I am Karma embodied, and I will conquer. Sariolla will have more than its revenge.

Riding through the Willow forest of Lovana, the sun's rays warm my skin. It's almost dawn, and even though we're miles from Callaya, the sun is noticeably stronger here than it is in the North. We'd been riding through the territories for weeks, the trip had been surprisingly smooth. The small villages we'd come across helped cure the hunger, fatigue and boredom for most of the men. The new material possessions they'd gained throughout our many battles seemed to motivate them, their desire for power ever growing. I didn't care much for their motives in joining me, as long as they were ready for it. I needed fearless warriors, smart and hungry enough to fly too close to the sun with me. Over the years, I'd lost many who couldn't handle it. At first, I took it personally, but life has a way of weaving out the weak. The inevitable cruelty experienced in battle ensured that I'd only have the strongest of men on my side. I would die for these men, they would die for me as well.

My black Stallion, Zila, picks up pace as Callaya grows nearer. On the outside, I appear as calm and collected as always. But inside I'm on fire. I'd spent the last decade living, breathing, dreaming about this moment. I have sweat and bled repeatedly, to be ready for this.

We were the strongest nation, the largest, with the richest history, the most innovative culture. We were betrayed, massacred. The North is torturously cold, evilly cruel and the South is a paradise where beauty beyond your wildest dream grows. That's how most folks see it, that's what people like to say. But it's a lie.

Wise men are often forced to learn from a young age, that things are not what they seem. Naivety and innocence don't survive in reality, I'd lost mine before I understood their meaning. Internal wars used to be a constant for me, when power is bestowed upon you, life forces you to choose who you are repeatedly. Throwing every test your way, to determine if you're worthy, if you truly are the chosen one.

I knew the moment my home was attacked, the night my parents died a long with the city they'd devoted their lives to protecting, that I would die fulfilling the prophecy. I'd live to avenge my family. The words were engraved in my soul, a rhythmic and constant serum circulating my veins. It was the only thing that drove me, the theme of my life, the purpose of my existence. I will fulfill it by any means necessary.

The famous high walls of Callaya are now visible, legends say they're protected by magic. But I don't have a doubt about the capability of my men. They've all assumed battle position before I've said a word. The canons are all loaded. They know the rules, the goal. I sense no fear, just an underlying rage that's barely being contained. This will be messy from the very beginning, there shall be no mercy. None.

Waving my right hand twice, my men load their bows and shoot all 6 guards standing watch before they're even able to send an invasion alert. This ensures the Kingdom is defenseless at the boarder. My most agile soldier Reese, begins climbing the side of the castle wall. Once he reaches the top, he lowers the enormous front gates. Even though it's the middle of a sunny day in Callaya, we light our torches. "FOR SARIOLLA!" I roar as I lead the charge of men inside the gates of Callaya. They repeat the mantra after me as they begin lighting the city ablaze. Gardens, monuments, museums, shops, homes, all burned as collateral of battle.

People begin swarming out of their houses in a panic, many families already attempting to run out the gates of the city, others take the time to prepare their carriages, knowing their lives here are over. They don't concern me. Let them flee, this city dies today.

In no time at all it's engulfed in flames higher than the perimeter walls. Piercing screams are heard from all directions; some from citizens burning alive in the fires, some from women in despair, some are frightened children, some cry in anguish at the loss of their homes, livestock, crops and businesses. I continue forward, approaching the Golden Castle.

Using my dead and extremely rare black oak arrows, which are immune to magic, I shoot the three guards defending the front doors of the castle as my men torch the Grand Gardens and art work. Charging though the giant Golden doors, I'm greeted by a swarm of Callaya Knights, just as I knew I would be. Without dismounting my horse, I spear my sword through the gold armour of a Callaya Knight, before slicing right through the throat of another. In my peripheral vision, I see my right hand Eno lead his group of men towards the Knight's headquarters to wreck havoc on the rest of them and ensure the Royals are less protected.

Knowing my men can handle the battle in the main hall, I take my five most skilled warriors and burst through the stairs leading to the royal chambers. I've gained enough experience, enough knowledge to know exactly where your Highness would quickly attempt to get to in a situation such as this. All exits are already blocked, no one inside makes it out of here alive.

In the Royal Chambers there is another main hall, gold as well with intricate carvings and artwork of the history of Callaya throughout. A corrupt, deceitful history full of propaganda. Red velvet covers the upper half of the walls and floors. There are several doors in the main hall but they're of no interest to me, that's not where I'm headed. 

At the very end of the luxurious, grand Square Hall, there is a small dark hallway on my right, hidden behind the Velvet wall. No one should be able to see it, it's kept a secret through magic. However, I've met powerful, lethal witches who trained me using black oak to also become immune to Magic rituals.

The dark hall leads to a dark staircase which increasingly narrows the higher you go, forcing me to finally dismount Zila. Sprinting up the steps, I have only two thoughts circling my head: kill the Queen quickly, and bask in the torture of King Ariol as he watches the destruction of all that is dear to him. Only at the very end, when I'm entirely satisfied and Sariolla has been avenged, will I drain the remainder of life in him.