Blade and blood

chapter1b

“Great grandfather, who are Zolopts? Why is everyone afraid of them? Are they also fearsome warriors like us?” Shimiyil asked as he helped the old man out of the courtroom. He had heard the name with fear when he was young. His mother said some stories about Zolopts to keep him running out of the house in the night.

Shimiyil was a young man. He is two years short of two decades. He grew up hearing the brave stories of the kings and warriors of his land. He had short auburn hair with attractive features, he was strong, but his skin was pale as snow.

Nakha wasn’t a huge country like it is now. The previous kings waged war against the neighbors and captured their lands one by one and built the empire that it is now.

Shoombreyar stopped his walk for a moment and looked at Shimiyil.

They were still inside the courtroom of the palace. The palace was once owned by the Ambiya kingdom. Ambiya was the wealthiest kingdom in the south. They had the most magnificent palace of all kingdoms.

In his tenth year of rule, Nakhashmere waged war against the Ambiya. It was the fiercest battle the south has ever seen. After a fifteen-day long battle, the king of Ambiya, Reys Orano, along with his three sons and countless warriors and officials were slaughtered.

The palace was built on a hill spreading over acres of land. Gold, silver, diamonds, rubies, and many other precious stones were used to decorate the palace. It is heard that the palace itself took two decades to finish construction.

Shoombreyar took a deep breath. “Zolopts are not warriors,” he answered in a low voice.

“What?” Shimiyil could not believe what he heard. “If they are not warriors, how can they defeat the warriors in the north? They have defeated not one but three armies and forced another to surrender.”

“You don’t understand,” The old man said and slowly walked towards the main door.

Shimiyil walked behind the man. He wanted to know about the Zolopts. “Please tell me about them. How they look, how they fight, and what are their weaknesses?”

“I don’t know.” He replied in an uninterested way. “I have never seen a Zolopt. But I know one thing. They have to be feared because they come from the Blood Forest beyond the Dark Mountains.”

As he walked he muttered something under his breath. “It is written that a great darkness arises in the north and only a great warrior can bring back the light.”

Shimiyil heard it clearly. The voice was crystal clear.

I am also a warrior. I can defeat them if I know more about them. He said in his mind.

He walked out of the throne room to another big hall where many ministers were standing. The hall was also heavily guarded.

Shimiyil saw Gorandale and Prashyona standing with the chief of the army, Rokkena. He was a heavy-built man and towered over the ministers. His figure itself was enough to make his enemies shiver with fear. Shimiyil looked at the man with fear and respect. A scar could be seen at a diagonal angle on his face over the lips and under the nose and almost reaching the eye. A fierce man with fearsome features. He was four and a half decades old. His long raven black hair almost reached the shoulders. He had a broad forehead and a long nose with clean facial hair. His eyes were dead without emotions and always had a hard look.

Rokkena would probably lead the army to the north. Shimiyil thought of convincing Rokkena to add him to the army he would be in. But the man was hard to convince. Moreover, he feared the man. He wanted to be part of the fight. He wanted to be recognized as the greatest warrior Nakhaland had ever seen. How can he become one if he is not part of the mighty war?

Gorandale saw Shoombreyar and Shimiyil.

“Join us, wise one.” He invited Shoombreyar.

Shoombreyar walked towards them with ragged steps. Shimiyil strolled with his great-grandfather.

As they reached closer, Gorandale said, “We were deciding who should join the army. We are choosing the best warriors of our land to defend the north and aid Magandry.”

“We are wasting our time. The Viyorans would finish them off.” The old man still believed that the land of Viyora is invincible.

“I wish it could be true,” Gorandale scoffed.

Shoombreyar looked at him in the eye with a flash of anger.

“You won’t believe what I saw.”

Gorandale snickered. “I didn’t even believe in Zolopts until the messenger came. I don’t know how they wage war. I don’t even know what made them fight against men in the north and what they want. Why are they destroying all the land in the north?”

“Something or someone must have triggered them. I believe someone, a dangerous, evil-minded man, would be leading them.” Rokkena gave the reply.

Shoombreyar looked up at the leader of the army. He was very much taller than the old man. “If you are intending to aid the north, then you should move to Viyora and fight the Zolopt with them. There is no point in waiting for the enemy at Magandry.”

“But we were ordered to wait…”

Shoombreyar interrupted. “The king only said to prepare the army. He didn’t order you to wait at Magandry.”

“The battle against Viyora has already started. I don’t think our forces can reach Viyora before the fight ends. We cannot help Viyora, and we cannot save them,” Prashyona reminded them.

Rokkena added. “I even doubt whether we could reach Magandry before the invasion. It is a long way, and we need time to prepare.”

“Oh wise one, tell us about the Zolopt. Why are they marching south? How can we stop them?” Gorandale looked at Shoombreyar. Everyone has heard very little about Zolopt. What they knew was that they were fearsome, deadly, and blood-sucking monsters.

“I haven’t seen a Zolopt,” Shoombreyar sighed. “I don’t even know whether they could even hold a weapon. How would I know how they fight?” the old man took a deep breath. “They are creatures long forgotten.”

“We don’t know what we are up against.” Rokkena exhaled sharply. “We simply don’t know what to expect.”

Everyone has heard that the Zolopt exist but no one has seen them. Something lived in the Blood forest past the Dark Mountains. Whoever entered the Blood Forest never came back. Some people who came back to take one last breath said only one word. Zolopt. They couldn’t utter a second word. Zolopt remained a mystery and a myth. Many stories were created around those parts beyond Korostary, but none of those stories were carried beyond Meya.

In the south, another set of stories were alive about the monsters in the Blood Forest.

The rumors spread like wildfire. The monsters were portrayed as ghosts and the Blood Forest was depicted as hell.

Rokkena and the one thousand chosen men were going to fight the ghosts from hell.

Shimiyil wanted to fight against the ghosts from the darkness of hell to prove himself as the greatest warrior the country has ever seen. A fight he wasn’t sure of winning. A fight he wasn’t sure of surviving.

“You are going to face a great Darkness. The one that could threaten our very existence. The north beyond Korostary would now be doomed. Five kingdoms and Meya stand between us and the apocalypse. Rokkena, only you and your warriors can save us.” Prashyona answered his question.

Rokkena looked at the first minister, Pradhan Sachiv.

Prashyona was the chief of all the second ministers in the country. There were five of them, including Gorandale and excluding Shoombreyar. All the other ministers came under the second minister.

As was Rokkena. He was the first armor of the country. The pradhanya. There were seven second-in commanders under him. Each of the second commanders commanded five thousand soldiers, including archers and spear holders and swordsmen.

“To fight against the unknown is suicidal. It is like we are facing death itself.” Rokkena exhaled furiously.

“You don’t fear death, don’t you Rokkena?” Gorandale stared into the furious eyes of Rokkena. He had a wry smile between his lips. “Choose the best men who are willing to die to achieve martyrdom and honor.”

Shoombreyar saw a dangerous spark in Gorandale's eyes. His wry smile was like a venomous spit from a serpent.

“No, Gorandale, death can’t make me shiver. I am fighting against all odds to die. I would welcome it for my king and the country. But, on my own terms, it was time for Rokkena to leave the blade in his hands and lay down on the soil. Men or beasts, they are the same for my bloodthirsty blade. I promise you, I will keep my blade well-fed and return victorious.”

Shimiyil felt the blood burning in his veins. He couldn’t silence him but utter the words. “I want to be part of this great battle. I am willingly giving myself to partake in wetting my blade with Zoloptian blood.”

Rokkena saw the fire in the young man’s eyes, yet he found a voice to deny him the opportunity. “No, young man, I can’t take you unless the king himself grants permission.”

Shimiyil looked into Rokkena’s eyes. They were cold and dead towards him. The man was stubborn in his decisions. Shimiyil knows it. Only the king can alter his decision.

“Shimiyil, you will get an opportunity to prove your skills in battle someday.” Shoombreyar kept his writhing hands upon his shoulder. “I am sure you will make our family proud.”

“Great grandfather, this would have been the perfect chance.” Shimiyil felt the fire inside him diminishing with each passing moment. He knew he wouldn’t be a part of the army that would march towards the north. Probably he will never see a battlefield.

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