The following is a letter from a father to his son describing what happened the day The Black King's soldiers were first seen
We all remember the day they came, even those who where born that day remember. There is a dark shadow in their memories that forms whenever they think of their birth. And those that are old, those who's memories have all but left remember. Like your grandfather. You could ask him the name of his wife and he wouldn't remember. Yet if you ask him about the day they came then he could talk for hours. He could tell you everything from that day. From the colour of the sky to the feeling of the ground shaking, and shake it did.
The thing I remember most clearly is how wrong the world felt. Those who drank from the streams and rivers that day claimed it tasted wrong, though none could say in what way, the hunters found that they couldn't sell their meat, and when they ate it themselves it tasted as if the animal had been dead for weeks, as if the meat had been slowly rotting away. And that day it was completely silent. The birds didn't sing, the dogs didn't bark, wolves couldn't be heard howling in the forest. Maybe the thing that scared me most that day was the silence. I was so used to hearing the life of the forest. And that day it all fell silent. It was as if nature itself had sensed a great wrong in the world, and maybe it had.
It wasn't until that evening that we heard them. The sound of an army marching, the clatter of armor. The thump of heavy footsteps, the ground itself shook with the force of their march. And the chanting. The chanting was the worse. The sounds of their voices filled the air, the words not recognizable, and it was as if the air itself had been filled with knives. Just hearing it was painful. To try and focus on the words. Unbearable. And as if they had been awaiting a signal all the dogs in the village started to howl, as did the wolves within the forest. And nothing would silence them.
They howled for an hour. And then they all fell silent. All at once, as if a signal had again been given. And let me tell you. I so desperately wish they hadn't fallen silent. Because that is when I heard it, when we all heard it, the sounds of battle. It seemed someone had attacked the military outpost. There was loud roars of cannons firing, the sounds of explosions. And the screams of men as they died in battle. It was less then an hour before silence once again descended upon us, broken only by the marching of the army as they left. We thought, or maybe it was just hope, that this would be a one off. No one dared to go to the outpost to see what was left, if anything. We just went around like nothing had happened, hoping that if we ignore it then whatever was the cause of it will ignore us.
It was a day later that we saw him. One of the warriors who had attacked the outpost. He had been mortally wounded, presumably left for dead by his comrades. His armor was a blood red, with golden engravings all down it. He was tall. Very tall. Nearer to seven foot then six. He was also well built. That much was clear, despite his obvious injuries he still held his sword and shield. His sword a broadsword of immense size, and stained with drying blood. His shield nearly as big as him, made of a metal painted the same blood red as his armor, with a golden wolf's face engraved into the surface. Though despite all this armor it is clear he had been mortally wounded. Blood stains the armor, and fresh blood leaks from it. He nearly makes it to the village as well. His intentions we will never know, though from what we now know about his ruler they would not have been good.
He collapsed not far from us, dead. Once we where sure he was dead we went to investigate. The first thing we found was his armor was heavy. Incredibly so. Most of us could barely lift it. And only the strongest men could wear it, my uncle being one of them, and even then they could do little more then walk slowly in it. How a man could not only run in it but also fight was beyond us. It seems they would have to be a man of immense strength, much more then anyone possessed. Closer inspection of the mans injuries, if he even was a man, showed that he should have died swiftly. That he shouldn't have been capable of traveling the distance he traveled.
It was months later that we began to hear reports of a man who called himself The Black King. No one knew where he came from. All anyone knew was he had declared war on everyone. With warriors of immense strength and fighting skill, who feel no fear. Who can survive what would be a mortal wound. There is rumor that he follows a dark god, and maybe he does. That this god's blessing has granted him an army and power beyond our understanding.
And I know now that as I write this I only have a few hours left on this world. For already the ground is shaking. And if I listen carefully I can hear the sound of them marching, and chanting. And in the distance the last rays of a dying sun are glinting from their armor. And so my son. I know I shall not see sunrise tomorrow. But I do not regret this. Neither do I regret that I shall never see your first steps, I shall never hear your first words. I know I shall never meet the girls you love. I know I shall never see your wedding or watch my grandchildren play in the sun.
But I want you to know this my son. I shall never regret these things for I know that it is what I do here today that will allow you to escape. That will allow these things to take place. And I have only two requests for you. Look after your mother for me. She will need you. And hold me in your heart. For I shall hold you in mine. And when I fall today I know that your face shall be the one I see. Your sweet little laugh will be what my ears last hear. And remember my son. You shall never be alone. For when you look at the stars at night the one that burns the brightest will be my heart. For none of heaven's fires can hold as much love as my heart holds for you. I shall be forever with you my son.
And maybe I do regret it. Not being able to see you become a man. And maybe time will blur your memories of me, the man you barely knew. But no matter what. I shall never leave your side. For you are my son. And I shall protect you even in death.
They draw near now. This will be the last time I will be able to write to you. Stay strong. And remember I love you.
