The Dark Plans
Darkness loomed under the misty clouds in the city of Dark Dume. A man in ragged clothes limped through the passageway of the Dark Palace. It was dimly lit by a tiny candle held against the wall at the far end. The atmosphere was gloomy and every little sound reverberated around the passageway. The man had mustered all his courage to walk through the deserted passageway to fulfil his duty when suddenly a high pitched voice broke the stillness in the air “Halt!”. Bewildered, the man scanned the passageway for the source of the voice. The candle light vanished and a messenger glided towards him from nowhere. “Why do you come?”. The spirit’s speech was very slow, his words stretched, and his voice had an undistinguished power. The man lowered his head and said, “I come from Hayva to aid important news to the Dark Lord.” The messenger stared in silence. His unseen eyes started reading the Hayvan’s mind for a while and then broke the silence. “You may pass!”
The Hayvan passed a sigh of relief and turned towards the huge golden gates. He pushed them open with a great effort. A blast of shrilling fear swept through his body as he laid his eyes upon the throne; the throne that no man wishes to witness by his own naked eyes. The throne ascended after six steps to a huge platform surrounded by ivory statues of four infuriated leopards. The heart beats transformed to large thuds as he approached the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord sat still on his silver polished throne. A cast of three faced snakes sat at the top of the throne. The man knelt down in haste and touched his head to the ground.
“What news so important do you bring, that the messenger lets you in?”, he asked in a heavy echoing voice like that of an earth rumbling sound.
“Master, master ...they win again. Victory chooses them again.”, the man’s voice was trembling.
The Dark Lord chuckled and slowly stood up from the throne, seven feet tall now, his red eyes glowing beneath the black cloak covering his head. “Who were the oppositions?”, he enquired.
“Four cities from our south, ranging from Zurkan to Avei... my lord.”
“A fool’s attempt!”, a slight anger in the Dark Lord’s tone, “It was a mistake again to trust you worthless piece of humans.” The Dark Lord started moving across the platform towards one of the leopard’s sculpture. “You shall leave.”
“Thank you, my lord.”, the man stood up and hurried his way to the exit before any calamity would strike him.
The Dark Lord touched the smooth curve on the metallic ears of the leopard while a blue fire blazed from his left palm covered in thorny metal gloves. “My loves?”, he whispered.
“Yes master?”, the high-pitched cold voices appeared from nowhere.
“It is time.”, he turned to the three messengers descending from the roof of the hall, “I have gained enough strength. I am invincible. It is time for me to rage a war against Legendia myself. This time… the attack shall be from the world’s greatest sorcerer, Elezabor Mighthorn.” The laughter of the messengers filled the Hayvan’s ears as he hurried out of the palace, into a very uneasy night.
