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Emeral: The War of The Regents

In the Kingdom of Emeral, a young and unlikely hero named Eel is thrust into a world of war and magic. Born to Regent Destro, Eel is forced to participate in the Combat Festival, representing his family's honor. Under Captain Orion's guidance, Eel learns combat skills and discovers his dormant magic. But when his cousin Prince Nogu stages a brutal coup, slaughtering the great cities' Regents and seizing power, Eel's life is forever changed. With his world turned upside down, Eel embarks on a perilous journey to warn the kingdom of Nogu's treachery. Joined by Captain Orion and the mysterious Asa, Eel must navigate treacherous landscapes, battle formidable foes, and confront the secrets of his own destiny. Will he be able to overcome the odds and save the kingdom, or will the forces of darkness prevail? Dive into the world of Emeral to find out.

afolabikayk_3965 · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
10 Chs

Blood and Brimstone

Eel stared at the steaming plate in front of him. N'dîr had made them all dinner, a special delicacy she said was native to Urum. He watched as they all gathered around the wooden table, stuffing their faces with the hot plate of catfish pepper soup. Ratchet slurped and sniffed as the hot meal burned through his belly. N'dîr came into the room with a bottle, filling their cups with a wine Eel had never tasted before.

"By the gods, N'dîr," Ratchet said, raising his cup for a refill, "I've never had a meal so tasty in my life. What did you say this was again?"

"It's called palm wine," she replied. "It's made from palm trees native to a land far across the ocean."

Æsà dropped her empty bowl, looking around as she cleared the table of dishes. She reached Eel, noticing his meal had been barely touched. "Are you okay?" she asked, worried.

Eel felt uneasy since he had the dream in the carriage. He couldn't place it, but this whole trip made him feel weird about himself, meeting N'dîr like this… how would he explain it? "I'm not hungry," he responded dryly.

"You do not like the meal?" N'dîr asked.

"No, no. It's not that," he said quickly. "I'm just not hungry for some reason."

N'dîr looked at him curiously, her eyes illuminated by the brimming glow of the lit candles around them. She stood up, walked toward him, and began rubbing his shoulders gently. "It's okay, young lord. Now that you are with me, it is going to be okay."

Eel blushed as she said this, her voice held a soothing rhythm that calmed his weathered heart. "Thank you," he replied. It felt like she saw through his destitution and somehow could help him through his troubles.

Ratchet stretched his hands across the table. He reached for Eel's bowl of soup, saying, "I will take it. If Mummy's boy over here won't eat his meal, I will."

Æsà slapped his hand away with a metal spoon, shooting him a cold stare that made him shrivel back into the corner, rubbing his hand. "Eel will eat," she said sternly, looking at Eel.

Eel still had to train with Æsà, and it was better to have her pleased when they sparred than upset. He looked across the filled room, wondering if he should tell them about his recurring dreams and how they slowly made him feel insane. But he decided against it and began to eat his meal.

Æsà smiled at him as he stuffed his face with the delicacy N'dîr was kind enough to make them. She walked toward the kitchen to drop the dishes as N'dîr sat down beside him and began to talk. "I hope you find it delicious," she said.

Eel nodded his head in response. Oriòn stood up and took out a rolled-up stick of shine. "Do you mind?" he asked N'dîr.

"No," she responded, as Oriòn lit up his shine with a match from his pocket.

Eel watched her face. He saw the scar etched deep into her skin, memories of his dream flashing across his mind. The wind picking up the shelf and hurling it over her as she held on to him. He looked away, sipping the wine some more before asking, "How did you get the scar?"

"Yes, I was going to ask. You mentioned it happened when you delivered Eel," Ratchet added.

N'dîr smiled as she heard this. "Oh, there are always risks when a female sorcerer gives birth. But birthing the young lord here was harder because of his mother," she replied, signaling for Oriòn to pass her the shine. She took a deep puff of it, slowly dragging in the blue fumes of the herbs. "Krva, the storm bringer. That was what we called her."

Eel listened as the air thickened with the musky smell of the shine. He remembered what she looked like, his mother. Her pale face stayed with him, her long silver hair, her screams echoing in the forceful winds as she pushed him out of her body. It all felt so real to him, like he had always remembered and known about it.

"So? What happened?" Archi asked, sitting on the table as N'dîr spoke.

"This?" she said, pointing at her scar. "It's a forgotten tale, but let's get to another. The one that brought you here, that is." N'dîr got off the bench and walked toward the main room as she spoke. "Come with me, my children."

The squad followed her outside. She walked toward the river, urging them along behind her. The villagers stood outside their doors, each family holding a candle. It felt like they were waiting for N'dîr. They formed a line behind her as she passed their households. She walked toward the river outside the village. As the joined in, they began to hum softly through the night air. Eel looked around, their solemn faces making him wonder what the purpose of this was. They reached the river, and Eel saw a platform made of twigs and bushes. On it lay the milky body of a dead boy, his pale skin reminiscent of the woman that haunted Eel's nightmares. N'dîr reached the platform and began to circle it, chanting and singing a mournful dirge as the villagers circled with her. Each person dropped a lit candle and an item as they passed the body.

Eel took a long look at the chilly face of the child. They wrapped him up in white clothing, his dark ruffled hair sticking shabbily on top of his head. He wondered why someone could have done this to such a young boy. N'dîr stopped circling after the last villagers dropped their candles. She stood at the center of the circle, standing by the side of the body. Eel could see the pain in her eyes; she must have been close to him. Then again, in a village this small, N'dîr would have been close to everyone.

N'dîr signaled to the squad to come closer. Her voice shattered into another sorrowful melody as they shifted through the crowd and walked toward the circle. They were handed candles on their way, lighting them from the candles on the body as they walked toward N'dîr. The song she sang was to the river goddess, telling the story of how she got enraged by the travesties of man, unleashing a terrible flood that submerged the world under water and heavy rains for many days. Eel could feel the pain she felt heavy in her voice, her frail body quivering as she finished the song in tears.

The squad watched on in shock, their faces also steeped in the sorrow of the atmosphere. They dropped the candles by the body, leaving a piece of clothing or an accessory alongside, like everyone else had done before them. N'dîr knelt by the side of the boy as the villagers stopped humming their sad tune. She touched his face, rubbing below his eyelids as she began to speak.

"Do you know why sorcerers are on the verge of extinction now, young lord?" she asked, looking up to Eel.

"My father says they died off in the war of the regents," he replied, walking over to her side.

"Yes, but did Destro tell you why?" she said, standing up and beginning to walk along the edge of the circle.

Eel shook his head, listening keenly to her voice as she spoke out loud for the community. "Many people do not remember, but I do because I lived it," she began. "Young lord, the last war of the regent made every sorcerer a target for the world. Sorcery was essential to their war, not just because they needed us to be soldiers, but even in death, a sorcerer's body held significant purpose in crafting deadly magical weapons.

"Weapons?" Eel asked.

"Yes, magical artifacts have to be made with magical materials and instruments. And the greatest source of material was the body of a sorcerer. In the hands of a master, it held great potential," N'dîr said as she walked to the body once more. She slowly removed the white clothing around his body to show Eel before she continued to speak.

Eel's eyes bulged open. He could see the shock on the faces of his squad as they stood behind, seeing the horror. The boy's chest had been cracked open. His heart was ripped out. Eel fought the urge to vomit as he laid his eyes on the body. He could feel himself burn with rage and a need to find who dared do this to such a young boy.

"Because of this, after each battle, we had to burn all the bodies. Friend or foe, we made sure they were ash before moving on to the next position. It was… hard," N'dîr said, her voice almost shaking as she spoke. "Even after the war, many people hunted untrained sorcerers, killing them for their body parts to sell on the black markets. So we devised this new form of honouring our dead. We couldn't bury them anymore; many dead bodies were exhumed and their bones were ground to make magical daggers."

"That is terrible!" Eel exclaimed.

"Yes, it was. But the regents cracked down on magical items, banning them and killing all who smuggled them in," she replied, looking at the body of the boy. "It took a while to get it done, and by the time they got the top players involved, our numbers had dwindled into near oblivion." N'dîr walked away from the body. "That boy you see was entrusted to me by a couple. They were afraid something would happen to the child while his powers bloomed, so they sent him here to me to train. I loved him like my own grandchild," she said aloud to the crowd.

N'dîr signaled to some villagers. They carried the makeshift raft and stepped into the river, walking into it for a while before pushing it into the slow current of the glittering river.

"I swear to you, my child. I will not rest until I send all who did this to you over to the other side to join you," she said at the edge of the river. "Will you help me, young warriors?" she asked, looking back at the squad.

Eel walked over to her side. He didn't know when, but he could see the glitter of wiped tears on the faces of both Æsà and Oriòn. He knew the squad was angry. This was not what they would have chosen for their first mission as Royal Guards, but now, they all felt the pain he felt for the dead boy. They all wanted to end whoever did this to a child. "Yes, N'dîr, I swear on the blood and Sigil of the leopard, we will find who did this to your apprentice, and we will end him where he stands."

N'dîr nodded her head as she heard this, smiling at Eel. "Thank you. You are just like your mother, young lord," she said gently by his side. "And I thank your squad too," she yelled out, looking back at them as they stood firmly behind her.

"You hear that, Ræo? We will avenge you. So rest easy and leave the remaining work to your Master," she said, stretching out her hand toward his floating body.

Eel watched in surprise as the current picked up and a small wave ferried the body to the far center of the river. He turned back amusingly, catching the shocked faces of the squad. None of them had ever seen real sorcery in their lives.

"Let the wild roar of the burning dragon unleash a blaze with tempered might. Burning all, in its fiery light; Inferno," N'dîr whispered subtly beneath her breath.

Eel watched as a fireball formed around her stretched-out hands and fired toward the raft at the center of the river. He felt the brimming heat that went out as it shot across the water and set the body ablaze. "Amazing," he said, marveling at N'dîr's accuracy and power. This is a sorcerer's power, he thought to himself, wondering what it would be like to see his mother in action.

The fire burned the boy's body in the distance as the villagers all bowed their heads before turning back toward the village, humming the mournful hymn they had sung on their way.