Chapter 8: God of death

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Grodak

Grodak sat across from Imp, waiting for Imps response to his story. Grodak felt strangely nervous, he wasn't sure if what he did was the right thing and hoped Imp would agree with him.

Imp remained silent for a while; his thoughts played on his face as he was trying to decide how best to speak. "I do not like the way you went about it," Grodak moved to speak but imp raised his hand stopping Grodak as he continued, "but, I see where you're coming from. At the same time, Grall made a mistake, one that you, every king, chief, or leader are destined to make at least once or twice. It's good that you were able to resolve the conflict with few deaths but if it had turned out that the threat was real, and you didn't act, you would be in the middle of an unwinnable war."

Grodak slumped back into his chair feeling defeated. He had realized he had overreacted as soon as he called down but stuck it out believing himself to be right. Now, with Imps input, he realized he wasn't right.

"So, I was wrong in banishing him from Whitewater." Grodaks voice held great sorrow, he felt as low as a pile of dung.

"The choice was yours in the end." Imp spoke softly and assuredly. "You felt he may make the same mistake a third time and wanted to protect your people from such things. That in itself is a leader, putting the needs of the many over the needs of the few. He may hate you for this, after all he sees it as you made the choice, and he's right, you did make the choice to attack and followed it at his suggestion, but you also had the choice to wait and see how it progressed. From what you told me, he told you everything he knew."

Grodak sighed, Imp was right, he had all the information but because Grall felt the need to be prepared.... No, that's not right, Grodak had made the choice and all Grall did was provide the advice and follow through with his orders.

Grodak put his face into his hands. The feeling of despair hit him like a ton of bricks. The feeling of not knowing how to fix his mistake drove him mad.

"Now if we are done here," Imp said, his voice sounded impatient and he appeared to be ready to fly out of his seat at any moment, "I need to find Grall and get back the God orb he took."

Grodak looked at Imp quizzically, he couldn't believe that his brother had stolen something from one of their own. "When did he manage that?"

"Right after I spared Milindars life."

Grodaks eyes widened, he couldn't believe what he heard. Imp, one of his most trusted friends, had spared the life of his greatest enemy.

"Why did you spare him?" Grodak asked, his anger rising as he spoke. "Why would you spare the creature that killed Tyril?"

"I believe he was being controlled by someone else." Imp said as he readied his magic to teleport at a moment's notice if Grodak tried to harm him.

Grodak opened his mouth to speak but stopped as a trumpet blew, and he heard his soldiers running and screaming. His commanders barking orders and the beat of drums drew Grodaks eyes to the window where he saw an army of undead marching towards Whitewater. At the head stood Milindar, dressed in heavy armor and welding a two-handed blade.

Grall

Wreag and Grall encircled one another, their weapons at the ready. They watched each other for the slightest sign of movement, hesitation, or distraction that gave them an opportunity to strike. This was Gralls final test, his graduation from being weak and depending on the Shadow World to a full-blown warrior. This was what he needed to be able to move about the world and keep everyone he cared for safe.

Wreag paused in his steps and charged forward going for a straight death blow. Gralls threw oathkeeper up, catching Wreags blade. they stood in place, both pressing against the other, challenging their strengths against the other. Grall, thinking fast, moved his blade slightly, allowing Wreags blade to slide down his, close to Gralls neck, before twisting his blade in a jerking motion, locking Wreags in the swords hand guard. Grall then moved the two swords, using Wreags own strength against him, to slam the blade of Wreags sword into the ground.

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