King

Deep in a burnt and ruined land, where once millions of humans thrived, stood a gigantic castle.

It was completely surrounded by a tremendous and wide crenelated wall with 5 towers watching over the landscape. In the middle of the keep stood the actual fortress. It was huge, even taller than the wall, and in the middle of it rose a tower of even more immense proportions and wider than the towers surrounding it.

It loomed over everything, like an ever-watching eye instilling fear and terror into the remaining few humans still lingering around the fortress.

There was only one entrance into the fortress, reached by a long and wide staircase. Sealing the entrance and keeping intruders out, a black gate firmly held in place by a metal frame completed the outer structure of the fortress. Large banners hung from the wall to the right and left of the gate. On the banners the black image of a hand tipped with three long thin claws, a red liquid running from the palm of the hand, and black smoke rising was painted, symbolizing the cruelty of the past war.

The banners were scattered all over the world, and at the very sight of them, those who had been on the wrong side of the former war would break out in a cold sweat.

In the center of the fortress was a huge throne room, lit by several lights, as they floated in the air, seemingly kept in place by some kind of magic.

In the middle of the room stood a massive throne that was golden and decorated with countless black stones. But the most striking thing was the person sitting on top of the throne.

Neither did he look like a warrior, nor a king. He was a young man at the age of 25. He was shorter than average and had black short hair adorned by a golden crown. His skin was neither fair nor dark, and he was not muscular nor did he look rich. He wore a normal black t-shirt and pants.

The only thing, other than the crown, that could remind one of a king was the long black cape that fell around his shoulders. It gave off a slight aura from the symbols engraved on it.

The young man was leaning on his hand, and his black eyes seemed to stare into nothingness. Next to the throne were two rather strange-looking guards. The one to the left of the throne was so thin that the shapes of his bones could be seen beneath his unnaturally withe skin. He wore a long wide cloak and stood hunched over. His eyes had a strange yellowish hue and every few seconds he reflexively bared his sharp and pointed teeth, emitting a slight snarl. His head was adorned with long gray hair. His scrawny arms ended in 6 claws, which he crossed behind his back.

The creature to the throne's right stood in stark contrast. He was huge, towering over everyone. His skin was greyish black, and he wore a black breastplate. One could clearly see the many muscles on his broad arms. He had 6 small yellowish eyes, reminiscent of a spider's, and wore a large scabbard on his hip that held a long sword. His mouth was small and also had several rows of razor-sharp teeth.

But these were not the only people in the room, there was also the creature hanging from the ceiling. It was a small and brutal-looking creature whose eyes kept a look out for everything. With its long hind legs and its long claws, it had grabbed a beam on the ceiling. It let its arms hang limply down. It was also dressed completely in black and didn't move an inch, but usually just hung motionless.

But then it suddenly moved and turned its gaze to the large door. It swung forward and grabbed the ceiling with its front claws as well. Now it was hanging from the ceiling on all fours and gave a warning hiss. This got it the attention of the young man sitting on the throne.

His black eyes focused on the door, but either way, he already knew who was about to enter. And as he expected, his closest advisor opened the door.

He had a human shape, but his skin was also an unnatural withe. As was so often the case with this species, his arms ended in claws. He had predatory eyes and two horns protruding from his skull. He wore tight-fitting armor that was smeared all over with blood. He stopped a few paces from the throne and knelt with his head bowed.

"My Duce, I bring good news."

The young man on the throne looked at him. Duce was not his real name. His real name was Nero. An unusual name, and to this day he didn't know why they had named him after a Roman Emperor.

The demons, sometimes just called him Duce which in their ancient language translated mainly into the word "leader".

Nero was about to reply when the old being next to him cut him off,

"You should have cleaned yourself before you stepped in front of your Duce. You insult his authority by being dressed like that."

The creature's voice sounded like a mixture of hissing and barking from a dog and cat engaged in a fierce fight to the death. Nero still had his head resting on his armrest and glared angrily at the demon,

"Silence Ramor! "

The ancient being called Ramor, swallowed his comment and bowed his head in shame. Meanwhile, Nero looked back at the kneeling demon,

"What do you have to say, Xersies?"

The creature called Xersies straightened back up to its full height, and looked at Nero respectfully,

"As you wish my Duce. We have just successfully recovered the shards from foreign world number 4. They emit a good aura. All in all, it went smoothly. After all, it was only a weak world. They only knew the 4 elements as well as Symbolics, and those were very weak. So our army raided their land with ease, taking their resources. The only unexpected thing was a multi-talent named Pior or Dior or something."

Nero looked at him in surprise,

"A multi-talent?"

Now Ramor interfered again,

"A multi-talent is a person who can master multiple Magic Disciplines at the same time. Even in our entire history, there has only been one, and he could only master the magic of light and wind."

"The multitalented one we found on the planet, however, was an exception. He could use all five of the powers that existed on the planet: Wind, fire, water, earth, and the power of a symbolic."

Nero his eyes lit up,

"Where is he now?"

Xersies shook his head,

"Unfortunately, he wouldn't surrender without a fight and fell in battle."

Nero put his head back on his hand,

"What a shame. We could have used him."

Disappointed, he shook his head,

"A talent that only comes around once every ten thousand years, but born on the wrong planet. Had he been more fortunate, he could have made a huge impact on his world."

Nero was silent for a moment and then continued,

"Bring me the stones."

Xersies nodded, raised his claw, and gave a loud snap. Immediately, a stooped human came running into the throne room, handing Xersies a black crystal. The man was wrapped in rags and looked gaunt and hungry. He was incredibly thin, and there were welts all over his skin from the lashes he received from sloppy work. He neither dared to lift his head nor to make any sound. He simply disappeared again as quickly as he had come.

Xersies held out the black crystal to Nero, who slowly accepted it,

"Good job. "

Xersies cleared his throat,

"When do you intend to set out for a new world, my Duce?"

Nero grinned almost crazily and stood up from his throne. This got him the attention of everyone in the room. Slowly, he walked towards Xersies,

"What do you think? We've only taken four worlds so far, we don't have time to waste. We don't know what else lurks out there. The universe is vast, mysterious, and full of danger. The only way we can stand firm and not lose our grip is not to waste time and become stronger. Stronger than anything or anyone that could try to subdue me. So when do we look for a new planet? Simple... Now!"