Late in the night, inside the vast expanse of a formidable castle, a soft knock reverberated through the colossal door. The king, a massive figure, rose from his seat. "Come in," he commanded, his voice resonating with authority.
With silent steps, a figure rushed into the room, the grey-haired servant knelt before the king. "My king, the enemies are closing in from all sides. Our soldiers are falling, and the country burns in their wake. Our people are dying," the servant reported, his voice filled with urgency and despair.

He already knew, he could feel them creeping in, something had hidden his foe from him. Glancing outside he could see his disbelievers approaching his stronghold, in a wave they came. Like a wave they would crash upon his might.

 “Don’t worry, Avent” he reassured, his words carrying an unwavering confidence.

As if in response to his declaration, a thunderous knock resounded through the chamber, the king glanced towards the door, and it open.

In came three beings “Father! Ready to serve!” they said, unified.

“I have been too generous these last years.” he began, his voice carrying a weight of authority.” Uninvited guests now assail our door, and it Seems like you three couldn’t take care of them. Go, defend the castle to the south, east, and west. Stay close, and do not stray far from one another." The king commanded.

A woman, with graceful features and elongated ears, stepped forward, her confidence evident "Father, I apologize for my audacity, but I beseech you to grant us permission to access the sacred vault. We need to borrow the family relics – the swords, shields, and armors – to fight our enemies. Zhong will wield the shield, while Amnon and I will each wield a sword." His gaze starting at his daughter, her request was bold,

they were forged from the carcasses of legendary creatures. Condensed to mythical material, the very creator of those relics had long since passed away. “So, you think you can handle these relics without repercussion? he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and skepticism. Never had anyone outside of his bloodline wielded these relics.

“Father, we know the risk of using them” one of his children replied earnestly.

“Yes, we would die for our country and our goal.”

He chuckled, -these children of mine seem to be forgetting something- he thought.

“Your lives are more valuable than these relics, never forget that. Never forget what we are fighting for. “

Drawing a heavy breath, the king glanced at them, their unwavering determination mirroring his own. Casting a final gaze outside.  -something didn’t feel right. How had these problems gathered without me noticing? He needed to take care of this issue now. -

"Permission granted to enter," the king's voice echoed through the chamber. "Avent, accompany them. Guide and assist them as they prepare for battle. Meanwhile, I shall entertain our guest." He trusted no one more than Avent, a loyal high vampire who had served him faithfully since birth, once a servant to his own father and now to him.

The old man's eyes glinted with pride as he bowed deeply. "Yes, my lord, I shall take care of them," he affirmed, his voice filled with determination. And with that, they vanished as swiftly as they had appeared, leaving the king alone with his thoughts and the impending confrontation that awaited him.

----
Outside

Banners held high, their vibrant colors defiant against the encroaching darkness. Above, mighty beings with colossal wings soared, their presence exuding a sense of urgency and righteous purpose. The ground, once peaceful, now quivered beneath their feet, poised to bear witness to the cataclysmic retribution they would unleash upon their merciless foe. A myriad of warriors from every corner of existence converged, obscuring the once serene surface. Humans, elves, dwarfs, satyrs, fae, draconic entities, giants, spirits, and countless other races, their visages etched with unyielding determination, stood united under a single banner. Their cause: to vanquish the one true king, a malevolent force that would end all new life. At the forefront, leaders of their respective races, forged by shared conviction, formed an unbreakable front. Together, they embodied an unstoppable force, embodying the righteous fury of those who believed themselves to be the harbingers of justice.

Hovering above the assembly, the mages' presence surged with raw power. Their incantations echoed through the air, intertwining with the sparks of arcane energy that illuminated the battlefield. Casting spells of fortitude and resilience, they sought to infuse the warriors with strength, their enchantments kindling the flickering flames of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.

The knights, adorned in armor that gleamed like a beacon of defiance, formed an unwavering formation that stretched beyond the limits of sight. Their movements were precise and synchronized as they marched forward, as if their very souls had melded into a singular force of indomitable will. Their steel-plated bodies were the first & last line of defense, an unyielding wall that stood firm against the a being that would swallow them whole.

Behind this stalwart frontline, a symphony of support unfolded. Archers, their bows taut and arrows poised, formed a sea of lethal precision, ready to rain down a storm of deadly projectiles upon the armies of the king. Druids, in tune with the ancient forces of nature, weaved their spells, summoning the elements to aid their comrades in the desperate struggle. Other valiant allies, both mystical and mortal, took their positions, each lending their unique skills and abilities to bolster the collective resilience of the defenders.

The atmosphere crackled with a palpable sense of both trepidation and unwavering resolve. In the face of imminent destruction, they were not mere soldiers, but a disparate array of warriors bound together by the common cause of survival. Each battle-hardened soul knew that the odds were stacked against them, that the coming conflict would demand everything they had to offer, and perhaps even more. Yet, driven by an unyielding determination and an unwavering loyalty to their cause, they steeled themselves for the impending doom.

Their voices, fueled by a mix of primal rage and unshakable bravery, reverberated through the air, drowning out the distant rumble of war drums. In that moment, all fears were set aside, replaced by a singular focus on survival and the determination to fight for which they held dear.

----
Inside his chamber, bathed in a dim ethereal glow, a battle attire lay nestled within the cavity of a meticulously carved titan's heart. Its pulsating crimson surface mirrored the flames that consumed the city beyond, casting an eerie reflection in the eyes of the king who stood at its side. The sight only fueled his resolve.

Without hesitation, he donned the armor, its weight a familiar embrace that spoke of countless battles fought and won. Each piece, meticulously crafted, bore the marks of his victories and the scars of his losses. They were the remnants of a lifetime devoted to a singular purpose.

His hands reached out to grasp the last remnants of his arsenal. Two axes, honed to a deadly perfection, whispered ancient tales of bloodshed and conquest. The mere touch evoked a bittersweet melody of memories, as if the weapons themselves were conduits to the past.

In a fleeting moment, a haunting recollection surged to him. A memory filled with terror.
-“Mother RUN!” they are coming for you!” A younger Agir screamed.
More memories started to resurface. As Agir stood there for a second.
 “Rem..ber my dear curs..d son, i  wi..l   al..w..ys   lo…ve y…u”
But there was no time for reminiscing. With a clenched fist, he shook himself free from the grip of the past. The weight of his duty pressed upon him, urging him forward. Against the sound of battle.

Fire was spreading around the city.

-no, my children need them more than I-.

He walked in stride to the top of his castle; it was time to entertain his guests. He could see his soldiers were fighting bravely & his commanders giving out orders. Without their king, they were getting pushed back by the millions of beings attacking. Before he could give out orders, an enemy leader had noticed his presence.

“Agir! You coward, come and fight your war, stop hiding behind your soldiers and mages," the elven king's taunting voice carried across the battlefield.

Agir's gaze turned towards the source of the challenge, his expression impassive as he assessed his opponent.

“Ahh, the elven king Sanse, here I thought you were dead,” he responded, his calm demeanor contrasting with the chaos around them. His voice, amplified by magic, resonated with a commanding presence.

Sanse scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain.

“You think your measly little son can defeat a highborn elf?”

A faint smile played on Agir's lips as he listened to the arrogant words.

“Seems like my information about you is incorrect. Tell me, how did you survive?” his curiosity laced with a hint of mockery.

Sanse's eyes narrowed.

“You think I’d blabber something so important to you?”

A chuckle escaped Agir's throat, the sound tinged with a touch of amusement.

“The reports on you state you're a being of lesser intelligence, so yes, I do. But perhaps you're not as much of a moron as my reports claim, Sanse," he replied, his words laced with sarcasm. “Worry not, I will siphon the information straight out of you, with or without your blabbering mouth.”

At the top of his castle, near the edge of the wall; once again, Agir felt something wasn’t right. His premonition was warning him, but he quelled it, as he gripped a piece of the castle wall and tore it out.

"SQUARE YOURSELVES!" Sanse's booming voice echoed, an orchestra of enchantments coalescing in his wake. On his command, a shimmering formation of arcane shields sprang into existence, casting an eerie glow across the throngs of soldiers positioned before him.

Agir casted a spell, hardening the brick and made it denser.

“Let’s see what you are made of, boy!” Agir roared. The castle groaned in protest as its very foundations trembled, yielding to the force of Agir's throw.

As the enchanted stone missile tore through magical shields like brittle icicles, a thunderous cacophony roared in its wake. The projectile bore down on Sanse, who, narrowly evading obliteration. His soldiers weren't so fortunate. The stone reaped a grisly harvest, mowing down hundreds of knights instantly. The wounded survivors were dragged to safety, leaving a battlefield strewn with the lifeless as a stark testament to brutal power unleashed.

"Forgive me, your sacrifices are necessary for the greater good," Agir's voice barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken remorse.

He launched himself off the castle wall and flew quickly into the enemy line, toward the Elven kings. There were too many of these so called kings; however, he wanted those healers dead. They were old and experienced and knew how to fight some of his soldiers, compared to the other races who lived for a shorter amount of time.

While they were still in a daze from his earlier throw, He started to cleave down the hundreds of their support line that the elves had gathered into a meat paste. Draconic warriors close to the elves, dived against him in droves.
 -Fools-.

Like an ocean, people were moving against him, with hatred in their eyes, he was their doom. Like a wall against the ocean tide, he stood his ground.

From the midst of his own forces, cries rang out, "Shield the King!" countered by vengeful cries from the enemy, "Slay Agir!" Each swing of his weapon birthed new cries of horror, his might catapulting bodies into the air, lives extinguished as they smashed with their shield-bearing comrades, dying.

He focused on the kings of different races and some important figures. -He couldn’t forget healers, they were more annoying than a critical issue, but alas if they stood Infront of him and his dream, they had to go-. 

From the depth of Agir’s shadow, a dagger appeared, going towards his neck. Agir rotated swiftly to parry, while his gaze sweeping the battlefield.

Repelling the strike, he returned with a ferocious strike towards the offending Satyr. A shield materialized, absorbing the full brunt of Agir's strike. His lips curled into a smile. -Why can't they fathom that my struggle is for the collective good? - he thought. His time on the battlefield had garnered the attention of leaders and notable individuals. An onslaught of varied kinds of magic sought him, he evaded and sent spells back. Over time it grew harder for him to kill someone of value, as they either fled or threw sacrificial pawns in his way. The prolonged conflict began to drain him, sapping his almost boundless energy.

“Ahh, if you joined me, even you would be eternal, all of us would be eternal. Nobody would need to die,” Agir proclaimed.

“At what cost? Not being able to have children, not being able to join our spirits in the spirit realm or heaven, destroying the circle of life. Not being able to die. Isn’t that a curse? Only madmen would join your side!” retorted the Fae Queen.

“Madmen, you say, I would say visioner, beings who can see that slaughtering your brother or sister from another race is pointless. There would be no more wars if nobody could die, peace would be eternal on this planet. We would have plenty of resources for all of us.” Agir countered.

“Do you think everyone wants to live a cursed eternal life? You are lunatic, you force your believes on everyone. Don’t you find it funny that even your own ancestry chose death over eternal life?” she spat back.

As history had it, only one could bear the mantle of immortality. Agir's lineage, the Sultans, were unique - they were destined to sire only one son, and that birth would be the transference of their immortal essence to their offspring, rendering them mortal. Then like any being they would die in battle or old age, and cycle would continue.

Death on a battlefield meant nothing for the immortal Sultans, they would gather life and essence from the surrounding and rebuild themselves after a short period of time.  “My ancestors failed to recognize the true magnitude of their gift. Ignorance inherited from one's ancestors should not deter one from addressing the challenges faced by their people. The gift we possess is one that should be shared with every lifeform on this planet. Why should I alone tread fearlessly in the face of death? My people are destined to wither with time, but why should they when I can rectify it?" Agir declared.

“How come none of your soldiers are immortal?” The Fae queen questioned with malice in her voice.  Around her reality seemed to bend, making twists and turns. “

Agir chuckled; she already knew the answer. It was common knowledge by now. Without giving him time to reply, A human king shouted. Death is part of life! Without it, we wander here aimlessly without a goal or motives to improve ourselves!”

“Being immortal gives you the power to choose to do anything, to be whoever you want, experience life in so many more ways than you were forced to.” He countered.

“So, you’re condemning us to timeless suffering for some peasants to charade as a king if it pleases them? We’re wasting our breath on your lunatic thoughts! Let’s end you once and for all”. Another human king shouted.
Not everyone thought like them, he had allies from all walks of life, and a vast amount of beings who desired for immortality.

“Hahaha... of course, you are. I think you’re forgetting something; I’m immortal.”

“We’ll show you another way to die, freak.”

A hint of a grin could be seen on his face. “Show me.”  Different leaders kept on adding to me conversation without waiting for their turns, Agir ignored them.

“Rise, my soldiers.”

From the blood-soaked ground, Hundreds of thousands of dead soldiers arose, their empty eye sockets glowing an eerie luminescence. They were a semblance of immortality - mindless husks, unbound by time's march, yet susceptible to the cleansing touch of fire, light, and other forms of magical bane.

Monks, priests, druids, and those who paid homage to the gods converged, their prayers merging into a resonant chorus, bathing the undead soldiers in a cascade of radiant light.

“… born from dust, dust you shall return...” Like a spark, they were gone before igniting into something powerful.

“You think we'll stand idle while you unleash your ghastly army upon us? Foolish king,” a priest snarled in contempt.He threw a hardened pebble at priest, as he vanished from existence, he had a point though. Even with his almost unlimited power, he couldn’t fight all these beings alone, he needed to regroup with his children.

The battle raged on, and Agir felt a disruption in his connection to Avent. His forces were dwindling, many dead or grievously wounded. Something didn't align. Hours had passed and no glimpse of his children and Avent. Dread gnawed at Agir's thoughts, -Could they have fallen? No, impossible. They are too strong, and none of these beings could take them out without making a scene-. He needed to check what was going on. He channeled mana through his feet, but the several minotaur kings and draconic kings stood their ground and blocked his path. Taking hit after hit, while healers were pouring on them, but, not for too long.

Agir's gaze hardened. He knew that to secure as few losses as possible, he needed to swiftly kill the Minotaur kings, Draconic rulers, and their healing subjects. However, it seemed impossible with these sacrificial lambs guarding them. Despite the odds, Agir charged his axes with mana and threw one towards the Draconic kings and the other towards the Minotaur kings. As if swallowed by darkness, the axes vanished, only to reappear in explosive fury near their intended targets. The leaders were flung far into the distance, their return to the battlefield delayed. It was a momentary triumph. —it would take a while for them to return to the battlefield, he thought.

Pushing his body beyond his limits, Agir appeared behind a Satyr king. With a single mighty blow, he shattered any hope of evasion, the Satyr's body vanished, followed by rain of blood, splat against the ground.

Steam enveloped Agir's form as he surged towards the five human kings. His movements defied comprehension as he zigzagged between them, his war cry echoing through the chaos. In an instant, a blinding white sphere erupted, obliterating everything in its path for a short distance around Agir. Soldiers attempted to focus their gazes upon him, but he became an indistinct blur, akin to staring into the heart of a roaring fire. His muscles screamed with exertion, reminding him that even immortality did not shield him from fatigue or pain.

Agir chanted a curse and flew for Sanse. He tried to end him quickly, forsaking the notion of capture in favor of swift annihilation. His blow aimed to end Sanse's life, mirroring the fate of the fallen Satyr king. But this time, his adversary had adapted, shields materializing out of thin air to thwart his assault. Although the barriers proved inadequate, they bought Sanse precious moments. The elven king was sent hurtling thousands of meters, crashing amidst his own soldiers, still clinging to life. The curse Agir had unleashed would ensure his ultimate demise, whether swiftly or gradually.

Fatigue started to grow; fighting this many beings and going all out had taken a toll on him without rest for hours. He cursed “this is why you took out a problem before it grew”, he muttered to himself silently. Without giving him any space to breath, spells, arrows anything that could harm him, flew fast and dangerous.

His gaze analyzing the battlefield, he could see his children coming out of the castle walls. Bloody and tired, He could see they’d fought a hard battle, as all three of them were injured to some degree. - Who could have stalled them for so long-. Agir blazing figure flew towards his children and landed next to them."

"What happened?" he asked.
Attacks had halted, almost as his enemies were calculating what they should do with this new reinforcement.
A hint of rain had started, turning the battlefield muddy, and the city was burning to the ground. 

“Father,  It took longer than we expected, they had really strong soldiers inside the castle. We tried our best, but we couldn’t take them out easily.”

With no time to ponder he replied quickly.

“I understand, I’m just glad you guys are alive. Where is Avent?”. he felt his connection with Avent becoming thinner; -what happened to him? -

The three of them looked down with sorrowful expressions.

“He fell in battle, father, protecting us. The four of us had almost no chance against that monster being, he sacrificed himself, so we could survive.”

Agir knew the danger of battle, and any moment could be the last, as he embraced his children. He knew very well how it felt to lose someone important.

“Where is he?”

“There’s nothing left of Sir Avent; his body was burnt to ashes, father.” came the sorrowful reply.

A ball of guilt and anger arose. He could still feel him, it wasn’t over yet, but not for much longer. His deed as a king, came before rescuing Avent. He had more pressing issues and those who followed him knew the danger.

The enemy had regrouped and strengthened themselves while they spoke. They were happy to see his children in disarray, and all battered up.

-If they thought that these wounds would stifle us, they were wrong-. He knew if they won, their goal would be in reach much faster. He needed to win this battle for world peace.

The smell of burnt flesh had spread throughout the battlefield. The ground was scorched, with deep holes from powerful spells. Ashes flew around, making it difficult to see far. Countless bodies, burnt, or in pieces. They laid spread all over the battlefield, on the cold earth, and more would come. Agir knew that several kings were killed and essential figures, but the war was far from over. To end it, he needed to decimate them.

With a roar “Don’t let them REST!”

Agir was pouring sweat, his body had become more slouched, hours on the battlefield and taken a toll on him. He looked at his children. They fought bravely and he would do anything for their survival.

He attempted to cast a spell to retrieve his axes, but his foes had erected a barrier around them. -My gauntlets are enough-.

Soldiers nearby tried to charge Agir and his children, but to no avail. They were dead before they could even come within close range.

A couple of breaths into the battle, He felt more sluggish, and the world started to spin. Something was wrong. His heart was beating sporadically, and his vision had turned darker. -Had I been cursed? How? Nobody had even touched me-.

Like a dam had broken loose, all the high-ranking soldiers linked to Agir were dying like flies. With uncertainty Agir tried to span across the battlefield to find a clue.  -Something is going on- but his enemies didn’t give him the chance, he couldn’t focus on anything else other than evading. “Leal, Amnon and Zhong. Come here!” he commanded.

He could barely see his children, they were bloody and dirty, in the danger zones, where people were vanishing. Leal appeared first, then Amnon and Zhong appeared a couple of seconds later.

Returning to his side, they gave Agir a breathing room. In the safety of his children, he showed weakness, as his legs were shaking and blurry vision. 

“I need a couple of seconds to rest and to remove a curse. But I need some time to take care of it.”

"Father, allow me to assist you!" Leal swiftly offered, draping her father's arm across her shoulders while his sons formed a barrier, fending off the onslaught of magical attacks and arrows.

-I don’t deserve these children of mine.- He looked at them proudly.

A searing sensation flared within him, leaving him dumbfounded - Am I wounded, when? -
His gaze fell to his chest where his familial relic - a sword, was embedded in his left lung. The sword, as if being consumed by an insatiable abyss, dissolved into nothingness.

With mixed emotions, he looked his daughter.

“… Why?” Blood dripping down his mouth, while he coughed out more blood.

“Forgive me, father, but your wish is not my wish.” Leal declared.

The battlefield fell into a stark silence, like a candle in a dark room drawing all attention. Everyone was watching them silently. The king was wounded.
His voice trembled with regret as he spoke, his words laden with sorrow.

“My wish was for the three of you to live together for eternity...”

Interrupting him, his daughter's voice cracked with a mixture of anger and sorrow.

” Yes, your wish! What about ours! But how would you know? You never had time, even with all time in the world, you still missed the important parts.”

Agir's eyes widened with shock as his daughter's words pierced his heart. "Father, you were blind to see. I am pregnant. My child would never be born if we succeeded” she said hysterically. “Did you know Zhong, and Amnon’s have pregnant wives? Father, me and their wives would perish, and our children will never be born, like all other innocent children and pregnant women.”

Realization dawned upon Agir, his expression a mix of disbelief and longing. "You're pregnant? When? Who is the father?" he stammered, his arms reaching out to embrace his daughter, only for her to retreat to a safe distance.
His gaze shifted at his sons, Zhong and Amnon. ““Wife, When, Where? … “in silence they refused to answer,“ Do you two feel the same as your sister?”  

"Father, we never desired eternity. None of us do. But more importantly, we cannot allow the future to be robbed from those who are yet to come," Zhong declared, his voice filled with tears and resolute determination.

 However, their conversation was abruptly halted by the commanding voice of one of the human kings
“Fools, stop talking, complete our goal!” One of the human kings shouted! he bellowed, his impatience palpable.

Never had he felt this, never had he felt this wronged.
-What was I fighting for? All I wanted was to give my loved ones a place of safety.-
Agir stood there silently, his gaze towards his son, who flew against him.

Agir remained still, his gaze fixed upon his son who flew against him. Amnon, driven by conflicted emotions, swiftly plunged his blade into his father's right lung before retreating. The weapons, shields, and gear that his sons had donned began to vanish. In a solemn gesture, Zhong passed an unknown sword to Amnon, signifying the weight of their actions.

“it’s your turn brother” Zhong whispered,

Amnon's hands trembled as he looked at Zhong and Leal, his heart filled with doubt. Was this truly the right choice? With tear-stained cheeks, he rushed towards his father, his every movement marked by agony. -Forgive us father- As Amnon carried out this act, a plea for forgiveness echoed silently within his own thoughts. With a heavy heart, he drove the blade deep into Agir's heart.

With heartache Agir watch as his son pierces his heart and flew back, to stand with his siblings. The swords wouldn’t kill him, crestfallen, Agir stood alone, surrounded by the deafening silence of his shattered world. The betrayal from those he held dearest tore at his heart, eclipsing any physical pain he had ever known. Blood continued to pour from his wounds. His skin had started to evaporate.

Leal and Zhong stood silently watching, while tears were flowing down Amnon cheeks, wondering if they really did the right thing.

Agir’s loyal servants rushed towards him without a hint of worry about their own life. Yet, they found themselves unable to reach him, as if an invisible barrier stood between them.

He didn’t have much time, before his body would fail him.

Surrounded by enemies he stood tall, serving him, the eternal king meant for eternity.  He needed a little bit of time. Like Divine luck, a talkative Fae queen had appeared once again in front of him.

“The sultans bloodline shall end here once and for all, the blue flame will be extinguished. History will remember you as a madman...” her words started to blur for him.

Agir could barely hear her. The rain had started to pour down on the battlefield.

They had slain his people, slaughtered with no mercy, their souls lingered on the battlefield, tormented and screaming for his help. He was a Sultan before he was a father. His people trusted him, for guidance and it was his responsibility as their eternal king to continue their goal, however he had one last question to his children.Struggling to speak through the blood that filled his mouth.

"Wh...at's th...ei...r... na...mes?

Another elf king appeared, like a pest, they had hundreds of so-called kings.

“Why do you believe we would tell you anything? There is no need to divulge those secrets to a dead man.” He said in calm and collective way.

A wicked smile twisted the face of a being with pitch-black eyes and imposing horns as he appeared before Agir. Tauntingly, he declared, "You shall never lay eyes upon them, nor shall you witness the birth of any grandchildren or anything else for that matter, as long as we exist. As you told us before, we might not be able to kill you. Locking you away in eternity, that we can. There you can bask in your eternal life by yourself, wouldn't you agree? But if you were to kneel and beg for forgiveness, I might consider divulging the names you seek."

As a dam filled to its brim, Agir's last reservoir of power surged within him. His body, stripped of its skin, revealed the bare bones and pulsating muscles beneath. Deafened by the overwhelming surge of energy, he stood on the precipice of oblivion.

They noticed his last push of power.

“Useless, this entire area is filled with magic shields and protection. You won’t be doing any more killing.” they mocked.

He was done with the shedding life. Like a beckoning call, the souls of his fallen soldiers sought their master. In a final act of defiance, his body released a billowing black miasma that swiftly engulfed the entire battlefield. The souls merged with the ethereal darkness, bound to their leader.

“What is he doing!? We need to stop him!” a voice cried out in desperation.

Thick chains, etched with various intricate spells, soared through the air and wrapped themselves around Agir, restraining his every movement.

His dead followers, he could see their faces, their voices were echoing in his mind. Avent’s soul stood in front of him, “I have failed you my liege”. Agir had no time to reply to Avent. Their emotions, a tumultuous mix of happiness, rage, and fear, inundated him. The spell had been rushed, its control slipping from his grasp.

-Rest, my soldiers, you deserve it. I’ll take care of the rest-

“A king never kneels” Agir commanded with his last breath.

Like a noose, it constricted around his soul, he felt a huge pull, He tried to fight it. With waning strength, he fiercely resisted, but the force grew ever stronger, its grip more merciless. Stripped of his senses and plagued by profound weakness, he acknowledged the inevitability of his impending doom. They were relentless, an unspeakable number of mages and priests left to strengthen their spell. He who thought he had a family, had nothing now.

Agir felt sorrow, not for himself but for the promises he had made for his people, unable to uphold his word.

-Was I wrong? -                

Darkness…