KATELION - Book One of Justice

-PROLOGUE-

Freezing, deadly waves towered as they raced fiercely towards a dark cliff of an odd-shaped island. Roaring like a vicious beast, the waves lingered in the air for a split second, as if drawing an air of tension before the kill of the prey. The air surrounding the waves was sucked inwards. The tip of the waves curled in formation. Gravity took place and they regained momentum. They smashed against the cliff and the rocks beneath it; the impact could have easily crushed the bones of a human body.

The wind was ferocious and biting cold. It had always been there, ever since the creation of the world, ceaselessly aiding the stirring and brewing of a never-ending storm. The sky overhead was splashed entirely with black ink; not a star could shine a light of hope in the Sanctuary of Darkness. The lightning and thunders which struck just so often became the finishing touch of the picture.

Deep below the restless sea, a futuristic-like vehicle purged smoothly and effortlessly through a semi-transparent tunnel heading towards its unseen destination with two powerful headlights leading its way. The magnificent carriage which portrayed a miniature space shuttle was built to carry a maximum of three passengers and one pilot. The intricate design of a crest with golden linings on the seats made by the softest material found in Senadon told of an owner who held a taste for elegance and luxury. The diffusion lights from the sides of the carriage shone a chrome yellow. They became the only source of light thousands of feet under this dark sea.

“The wild and undefeated Tempest of Poseidon,” whispered the lone passenger in it. The sight of the dark sea had unconsciously seeped feelings of remorse and pain into him. What was done was done. Regretting his decisions for his actions would not bring any difference to what was yet to come. He was grateful for the silence for the past fifteen minutes. It gave him time to clear his mind. He opened his eyes as he heard of a small beep. We’re here, he breathed.

“Lord Valkyr will be waiting for you in his chamber, General,” informed the pilot through the connection. At the same moment, the door of the vehicle automatically slid open upwards.

The passenger stood up. As he lifted his head, the light caught his metallic mask. The mask symbolized a snake; he looked through the eyes of its slits with its body concealing his left cheek. His wavy, dark blue hair was striking against the yellowish light. His body was hidden beneath a brown cloak. Stepping out onto the dock, he pushed away any excessive feelings and denied all hesitations in him before making his way to meet the most wanted man in Kingdom Katelion.

“I am here to see Lord Valkyr. Let me pass,” the unknown man spoke in a low voice to the two guards who were guarding a pair of ceiling-to-floor doors. He flashed a round medallion of gold that bore a symbol of a black dragon with tattered wings at the guards. Only respected people of the Valkyr Empire were to possess such a medallion. It allowed the carrier the privilege of meeting Lord Valkyr immediately. Unfortunately, the guards hesitated a moment too long.

SLASH!

In a blink of an eye, he drew his sword and slit the throat of the guard standing on his left. The dying guard fell to his knees with his hands clasped around his neck. His eyes were widened with shock and fear as blood splashed from his neck and gurgled through his mouth. He heard a soft ‘thud’ as his whole self hit the ground. The last thing he saw were those mercilessly expressionless, dark eyes glinting from behind the devilish mask.

He withdrew his sword and returned it to its sheath gracefully. It was clear that he was a trained swordsman. Receiving the message, the remaining guard hurriedly but gently knocked on one of the door and announced his arrival a little breathlessly. Granted the permission, he swung the doors open for the man. Once he was in the chamber, the guard closed the doors.

“You bring good news, I suppose?" a male voice rang through the darkened chamber. The voice was cold and harsh. Dark Valkyr did not enjoy being disturbed from his rest.

“My Lord, I have done as you have instructed. Prince Raviex listened to my every word. He has sent his Imperial Army to the city of Grikshan. Other than Sir Damien by his side, Katelion is completely defenceless,” the man reported humbly. He was aware of the irritated note Valkyr placed in his tone, but he was certain that his Lordship would be pleased with his achievement.

“Well done,” said the figure sitting on the large and black armchair with its back facing the man, “You truly are my promising successor, Lazachus.” Valkyr added maliciously as he stroked his neatly-kept, long, silver hair which he always let down. He slowly spun his chair around and faced the man.

“You and your mask,” commented Dark Valkyr idly.

“Please, my Lord,” answered the man, hoping that Valkyr would understand his position.

Valkyr chuckled, clearly amused by his overcautious nature. “Do you really expect to find a spy in my own private study room?” They were words full of pride; over-confidence perhaps. However, his fortress was virtually impenetrable, considering the tight securities protecting it.

“Better safe than sorry, my Lord. I believe you realize that I have a reputation to keep on the Floating Land. Until the day you conquer Katelion, it is best, as we have agreed, that no one knows that I have been in touch with you.”

“Very well, we shall keep it that way then,” drawled Valkyr. Suddenly, he let out a spine-chilling laugh. The man, his face still blank of any expression, slightly bowed his head. As he retreated out of the chamber, he heard Valkyr’s declaration ringing through the thick walls of the chamber.

“Soon, Lazachus, I shall fulfill my forefathers’ destiny; the destiny which I shall rise up to by the written words of the Ancient Prophecy!”

Sir Damien Torrez gazed out from the balcony of his mansion that overlooked the Grand Capital of Katelion. He swirled the glass of divine wine in his right hand unconsciously. It was sunset, a beautiful one, too. But he could not bring himself to enjoy it, no, not when a bad feeling had been disturbing him since the Imperial Army had left for the Northern City, Grikshan. Grikshan had sent out a distress signal for help from the Floating Land as they were attacked by a large army from the Valkyr Empire.

The forty-five year old man sighed. Destruction and chaos had been everyday news throughout the Blessed Land since twenty years ago after General Dark Valkyr showed his true colours and left Katelion. Because of his greed for power and control, Dark Valkyr abandoned his post as one of the best guardians of Katelion and went down to the Blessed Land, accompanied by his supporters. He hid himself and began building his own empire and his army, which eventually grew powerful— powerful enough to threaten the peace and harmony of the world.

Sir Damien smiled bitterly when he remembered the times when he fought side by side with Valkyr in many glorious battles. That belonged to the past. Now, plainly, he was a highly respected and famous knight with great influential power over the Prince. Then again, he pondered about the decision made by the Prince of delivering the Imperial Army to the far north of the Blessed Land. He realized that without the Imperial Army, the Kingdom was vulnerable. He prayed silently for the Kingdom’s sake. Perhaps it was his instinct that was trying to tell him something of which would befall on his beloved kingdom…

“To Katelion,” Sir Damien muttered, raising the glass and gulped down the remaining wine. “May the force be with Thee.”