Harbinger Of Doom: The Attainer

Prologue

Fate is omnipotent,
but I dare to defy it.
My fists are brutal,
my mind is adamant
and my heart is resilient.
Though I halt in the road of uncertainty,
there is no turning back.
The rays of the blazing sun strike me.
Droplets of cascading water drench me.
Faltering is a taboo till I cross the bridge.

¶¶¶¶

The sky was gloomy. Overarching bellows of thunder preceded sparks of lightning as a cascade of rain descended from the clouds. As freezing as the day was, three figures, two men and a pregnant lady, hurried in the woods as though they were oblivious of the unfriendly weather. It was a matter of life and death, so seeking asylum was the bigger picture. Behind them were a large group of fearsome knights on galloping horses, chasing hungrily. Their bodies were heavily shielded with metals. Its coldness similar to death itself.

Vicksen stared back in dread. It was no-brainer that outrunning these numerous troops would be improbable. After rescuing the crown prince and his wife from the bloodbath in Solice, the trio had been on the run for three good days!

In a greedy course for domination, the northern kingdom led an expedition to invade Solice, conquered it and laid it in desolation. The civilians were either killed or taken as slaves. It was a terrible massacre.

"Your highness, go ahead. I'll try to stall them."

Crown Prince Lukas Taptallen halted, not certain of what to say. He looked at his pregnant wife who was hyperventilating. His arm had been around her back all these while they were escaping. His supportive posture coupled with her pregnancy were the reasons behind their low speed rate. So whether Vicksen succeeded or not, the odds were still against him.

These northern barbarians were just too relentless.

They were blatantly out to eliminate the remnants of the royal family of Solice.

Solice had managed to hold the city gate for only three years before the emergence of an invincible archmage whose power extended beyond human imagination, as if obtained from a heavenly immortal. He engaged the royal mage of Solice and defeated him. Thus, leading to the downfall of the Eastern Province.

It was an era of outright tussle when the invincibility of kingdoms were determined by the magical prowess of their mages.

Suddenly, the pregnant woman collapsed to the ground with the guide of the prince. His eyes lit up in terror.

"Mariana... Mariana..." He trailed off.

The neighs and gallops of horses were becoming more audible. Vicksen unsheathed his sword waiting for the unfavourable outcome. His loyalty to Lukas was unquestionable, and he was more than ready to plunge into the pits of hell with him. He clasped the hilt of his sword in an attempt to gather courage. Vicksen was truly a very skillful swordsman. He still had the residual dry blood of the enemies from some days ago plastered on his armour. But who wouldn't tremble at the sight cold, emotionless riders from the north backed by the immortally empowered archmage. As said "The world is the dream, and death the interpreter." The sight of hundreds of cavalrymen wasn't a juicy one.

The sun had been intimidated that it vanished completely. Even the clouds lost their usual midday lights. The day was drastically grim, as if indicating the imminence of soul devourers.