THE DARK KNIGHT | 18+

Seven Azeroths trotted on their horses, tracing through dense jungles paved by damp soil. It seemed as if it had recently rained. Alaric could already dream of war, imagining himself slithering through throats as the rainwater blended in his blood, trickling down his lips.

“Are you certain this would be fruitful Alaric?” King Derek asked. his gaze did not waver from the the uneven road ahead, his hoarse voice made Alaric realise that his king was indeed becoming old.

“Yes your highness. A parley would certainly help Theolians realise what they are to deal with”

Parley was not a conversational effort for peace, it was going to be all but a confirmation of war. ‘A war Theola was going to lose’ Alaric was certain.

Kingdom Theola had been impregnable for centuries. Mighty rivers and unsurmountable mountains made it the home of millions. In Theola, hunger was a myth, violence was a theory and injustice was non existent. People dwelled in Theola’s arms in joy, peace, and justice.

For decades, people of Theola remained unaware of the danger lurking in their dense forests, where kingdoms in their neighbourhood creeped with envy and displeasure, patiently waiting for their time to come.

It became increasingly difficult not to notice an army of hundred thousand surrounding their boundary for months. Theola’s army prepared themselves in return, readying for whichever enemy that dared look at their Theola wrong.

For the first time in centuries Theola was challenged by a great power. However, when inhabitants of Theola found out who had decided to make Theola their enemy, it was as if the ground was cut from under their feet.

Azeroth empire had its eyes on Theola for decades. The opulence, education and growth of Theola wasn’t that of any other kingdom in the world. As the largest empire to rule, Azeroth wanted to expand its boundaries. What better place to begin than the Theola itself?

Theola’s greatest concern wasn’t that Azeroth headed to their boundary with hundred thousands. Theola was well capable of buttressing their armed forces with larger force. As of the armed machinery and technology was well shared between the two kingdoms. However Theola did not have that one thing that Azeroth did, the one thing that Theola was afraid would bring their kingdom to demise.

Knight commander Alaric Hades. His name corroborated his aura. There was increasing doubt of his humanness. He owned a soul of that of the dead and a body that of the leader. By rank, he was only a knight, but there was no kingdom that didn’t fear him more than the grim reaper himself.

The rumours fled across the kingdoms about his gothic glory. There was a story how he once killed twenty soldiers with nothing but a dagger. The truly frightening tales of women dying in his bed evoked shivers on feminine flesh. He was the man mothers would warn their naughty children about. He was the devil women vowed themselves to stay away from.

Yet his popularity amongst feminine communities was undeniable. The women of Azeroth could not help themselves but eye him twice when his attractive figure would trot gloriously across the streets on his equally magnificent horse. He was god, of glory and death. And as some might put it, he was death; of god and glory.

He was the reason why hierarchy of Azeroth was distorted. He stayed second to the king, his word was heavier than many ministers and royalties. His loyalty to his king Derek was unquestionable. It was one of the reasons why Azeroth had no one to rely on but Alaric Hades.

In truth, Alaric only wanted to visit Theola before they could attack it. He found pleasure in performing the before/after ritual. The devastation delighted him. He needed to know how Theola looked before he destroyed it, before the rivers looked red, and vultures were more well-fed than humans.

“And your presence would persuade them to surrender I believe” King’s voice intervened his thoughts.

“Certainly” Alaric whispered as suddenly out of the trees emerged the scenic beauty of Theola. The immaculate architecture stood across the levels in the city. They could see on the highest level a tall palace whose turret attempted to reach the sky. That is where they were meant to be this morning.

The seven horses dashed across the well-planned streets of Theola spanned by guarding soldiers. No unarmed citizen roamed on the street. A strange silence engulfed the entire city, as if they were afraid the seven Azeroths would wipe out their entire population themselves.

Alaric almost smiled at the immense precaution taken by Theolians. They should indeed be wary of his presence. God forbid if he liked one of their women, no one would stop him from slumping her on his shoulder and carrying her back to Azeroth.

Their arrival at the palace could hardly be called a welcome. No one exchanged pleasant greetings nor did anyone displayed a speck of delight. The king of Theola stepped down his throne to address his “guests”, inviting them in another large hall to discuss the matters further.

Alaric found himself immediately disinterested. He already knew no party would be denying the war to settle for peace. No king ever sought peace. In the world where power mattered more than anything else, war was the only opportunity to establish it.

Naturally both the kingdoms felt confident that they had the upper hand over the other. Theola, because it was incredibly strengthened from within, and Azeroth because it had Alaric Hades.

He excused himself in not less than five minutes after the discussion began. The King Derek did not insist upon him staying since politics was not his forte. He was no use in a conversation. He was better silent, he did things better quietly.

As he walked across the halls of magnificent palace he felt the guards around him stiffening. He felt delighted by their hesitance but his features failed to portray them. He liked that about himself. No matter what hailstorm evoked inside his mind, his face remained unreflective, leaving the bystander completely clueless of his turmoil. He strode with his hands locked behind his back, his aura warning the creatures around.

The soldiers’ eyes reluctantly glanced upon his sword neatly tucked inside scabbard. The young soldier wondered how many bodies the great sword must have befallen? Hundreds? Thousands? Nonetheless, his naïve imagination could do no justice to the reality of numbers. Alaric was far too barbaric than anyone could fathom. Despite his deadly reputation he was still an underestimated swordsman. It was another thing Alaric liked about himself, being utterly unpredictable.

During his session of self-admiration, his gaze fell outside the window, looking over the stunning view of dense mountains capped with grey clouds. The rain was lingering on the horizons.

However, it wasn’t the sight of nature that allured him. A blurred figure sat on its knees in the field of flowers, alone and engrossed.