Anglemour

For three years did Arozal and Felimor stay in the hidden city of Dahgoren, last sanctuary of the people of Esgar. They grew taller, stronger, and wiser. A smile was always upon their faces, and for a time, their true home was forgotten. Never were they without something to occupy their time, be it a festival, feast, or simply a solitary walk in the woods.

Ever did Felimor grow closer to Erenis. Much time did he spend with her. Often they walked through the woods together, talking of many things. And Thileres looked upon them with joy, for he loved his daughter dearly, and much respect did he have for the Lord Felimor. It pleased him greatly that Erenis had found such a fine man.

But times could not stay the same. All things must end eventually. And so the days grew darker, and the light of the sun above seemed to become ever more dim. The wind blew throughout the trees, whispering of dark deeds. Indeed, it carried with it the stench of death. Great black clouds filled the sky, almost wholly drowning out the light of the sun. Rain poured down constantly upon the lands.

And so the morning came, or at least it was said to be mourning. Though for once there was no rain, the sky was black as night, drowning out all light. Arozal walked slowly along the path into the forest. For the first time in months, he was able to walk in the woods.

Not a single sound could be heard, save the soft, steady thump of Arozal�s boots. The tall trees cast ominous shadows on the path before him. No animals stirred in the darkness.

The air was cold, and a chill breeze moved swiftly through the forest. In the distance, thunder crashed loudly. Arozal shivered. The past three years had been great, but was this the life he wanted? What of Virelia? What of his father? He wasn�t willing to give them up, not even for this life. For three years he had tarried in Dahgoren, unwilling to leave.

He stopped, looking around him. Only a thin brown leather tunic stood between him and the bitter, stinging cold. Yet there was something else. Something felt wrong. "Things are not right here," he said softly. "If only I had brought my mail. At least I have Yeteres..."

Arozal continued to walk, his feeling of dread growing ever greater. The bushes beside him rustled. Yeteres flashed to life, its white blade seeming to shine with light from inside of it. Arozal held the blade in front of him, calling out. "Who goes there? Identify yourself, lest Yeteres spill your blood!"

The voice of a man called out, wrought with pain and distress. "Lord Arozal? Is that you?"

Arozal was stunned. Who would know who he was, and be able to identify him so quickly? "I am indeed Arozal, son of Erozal, heir of Coralis. Reveal yourself!"

A man stepped from the bushes. He wore dull, battered white chain mail over a dirty tunic of leather. The helm upon his head was rent with a deep gash, and the sword in his hand was notched. Yet still upon his mail was the crest of a Virelian Paladin. "I knew it was you, Lord! Only an heir of Coralis could yield a blade as mighty as Yeteres. But, they said you were dead, along with all the others."

"Dead?" Arozal asked. "No, I am not dead. Both myself and the Lord Felimor escaped, though it is indeed true that the others fell to the savage men."

The man looked confused. "But, the scouts found 8 bodies, two of which were burnt beyond recognition. We believed them to be Felimor and yourself, and Yeteres to be in the hands of the savage men."

"Nay," spoke Arozal. "It must be some devilry of the wild men. For three years Felimor and I have lived in Dahgoren, the hidden city of the Esgarians. But that is another tale, for another time. Please, tell me, why are you in these parts?"

The man grew silent, bowing to his knees. "Dark times are upon us, Lord. The noble King Renloun has been slain by dark men out of the southern lands of Nerressia. With them were many beasts or war, and orcs as well. They have taken Cirtenia. A man clad in black mail leads them. Some say he is indeed the Black Knight, returned to seek vengeance. Most of the Paladins have been slain, the others, led by Neyteg, fled to a stronghold unknown to me. I was separated from them, and so I ran into lands unknown to me. I escaped into the forest, and they seemed unwilling to follow. For five days now have I searched for help, all the while attempting to avoid the savage men."

Arozal�s face went deathly white, and his knees gave way beneath his weight. He fell to the ground, a look of disbelief upon his face. He could not pull himself to his feet, managing only to raise his head and look into the eyes of the man before him. "What of my father? What of the Lord Erozal? You spoke naught of him."

The man hung his head low, turning away and speaking softly. "He disappeared several months before the coming of the dark men. Most say he is dead, but Neyteg says nay, for only he knows what became of Erozal."

Tears ran down the cheeks of Arozal, as he again let his head fall to the ground. His grief was great. For hours he lay on the ground unmoving, tears running down his cheeks. When he finally arose, his eyes were bloodshot, and his face covered in dirt. "Let us go find Felimor. It is our duty as knights to return, and my duty as the last heir of Coralis to slay this enemy, or die trying."

Arozal sprinted back down the path toward Dahgoren, followed closely by the weary paladin. His boots hit the ground hard, his legs pumping as fast as they possibly could. The trees and shrubbery flew quickly by; the dark clouds overheard growing ever darker. Rain began to pour from the sky. Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a deafening crack of thunder.

They arrived at Dahgoren soaking wet and covered in scratches from the many trees that lined the path. "Felimor! Felimor, where are you?" Arozal called frantically, bursting into the large wooden building that served as a center of interaction for the village.

Arozal pressed through the hordes of people who stared blankly him. Yeteres bounced at his hip, its sheath dripping clear droplets of rainwater. "Felimor!" He called, yelling louder then before.

"Arozal," the voice of Felimor spoke from just behind him. "What troubles you, my friend?"

Arozal gasped for breath, sweat stinging his eyes. He turned towards his friend. "Cirtenia has been taken by dark men out of Nerressia. My father, Erozal, has disappeared. Most of the paladins have fallen. They say the Black Knight has returned!"

Felimor froze, his eyes wide in surprise. "Where did you hear of this?"

"I brought the news to him," spoke the paladin, who stood just to the right of Arozal. "I escaped the assault upon Cirtenia, but was separated from Neyteg and the other surviving paladins. Arozal found me wandering lost in the forest."

Felimor sighed deeply. "Dark tidings these are, without a doubt. My friend, if we must go to war, then so be it. I shall come with you, and even if we must face the Black Knight, I shall not forsake you."

Arozal bowed. "I thank you, my friend. Let us now go." And so, Felimor and Arozal, still followed by the paladin, left the hidden city of Dahgoren. With all speed they journeyed towards Cirtenia. Through the rain and darkness they went, never stopping, never looking back. For five days and five nights they ran, hardly resting at all.

At last they arrived at the castle city. The three warriors stood only one hundred yards from the great iron gates. Two men, clad in black chain mail, stood before the gate. Spears were in their hands, and black helms were set upon their heads. Their eyes were dark, shining with the malice that was within their hearts.

Arozal was the first to speak, whispering in a low tone. "They appear dark, though I believe they are Virelian in origin."

The paladin, who had named himself as Endeln, now spoke up. "Arozal, we cannot go into the city. Let us try to find the Lord Neyteg, and join up with the remaining Paladins."

"Nay," replied Felimor. "We must enter the castle, and do what we can."

"Let us now go," Arozal said, striding towards the gate. He now spoke to the guard. "Hail, Knight of Virelia. I am Arozal, son of Erozal, heir of Coralis. Very much would I like to again return to my home."

"You may not enter," spoke the more muscular of the two guards.

"No, let him enter," said the second guard. "Let him meet the lord of the city, and so the master may judge him."

Again did the first guard speak. "You may pass. Go directly to the castle. If not, you shall be slain."

Arozal bowed low before the guard, and stepped through the gate, followed by Felimor and Endeln. They walked across the once beautiful and clean stone road through the city, which now was dirty, stained with the blood of the innocent. Many houses that had once stood were now ashes upon the ground, occasionally rising and swirling in the wind, only to fall back down somewhere else. The ash had spread about the city. All around, warriors stood clad in black armor. They carried spears, or long bladed broad swords.

The people of the town: men, woman, and children alike, marched in chains. Some did slave labor; others were cruelly beaten for the sadistic pleasures of the dark men.

At this sight, Felimor�s wrath was great. His eyes flared angrily, his hand never far from the hilt of his mighty sword. It was all he could do not to rush forward and kill the dark men where they stood. He whispered to Arozal. "Truly horrible is this. When I find the one who leads these men, I shall ever so slowly kill him. He will suffer greatly."

Arozal replied. "You speak rashly, yet I cannot help but agree. No matter what the cost, the one who did this must die."

They continued to walk, arriving at the cracked and broken steps of the mighty stone castle. The once clean walls were scarred and battered, marked by the weapons of the dark men. Where once trees and shrubs had lined the castle walls, now were only stumps and twigs, the rest had been charred and burnt to ashes, like the houses of so many defenseless Virelian citizens.

They walked up the steps, entering a hallway that once had contained many works of art, where once had fine hand-woven rugs covered the stone floor. The great pillars that supported the roof were close to collapsing, and were covered in black runes, carved with little care by savage warriors. The doors of the castle lay on the floor, having been wrenched from their hinges.

In the roof were many holes, and all around, blood stained the hallway. It ended with another door, on which was carved the words Oredun fer denut, which meant, "Darkness has come" in the ancient tongue. But also, it could mean that the Black Knight had returned, for the word Oredun, meaning darkness, had come from the name of the Black Knight.

Endeln gasped. "It is true; Oredun has returned... What hope do we have of victory?"

Arozal grasped the hilt of his sword. "Yeteres is a mighty blade, for it was bourn of the light. No darkness may withstand its might."

"I suppose we shall soon find out�" Endeln trailed off.

Felimor held up his hand. "We do not have time to question what is to come. We must march on, no matter what."

"Yes, let us go." Arozal again moved forward, Felimor and Endeln following just behind, as always. They entered a large open room. Like the others, it was covered in blood and marks of battle; the once white walls were now a bright red color. In the center of the room stood a single guard. He was not Virelian, but of some far away land. His eyes were dark and full of hatred. Like the others, he was clad in black chain mail. But he seemed different, for greater and more terrible was he.

"Who are you and what is your business here?" The voice of the guard was deep and rough, speaking with the same darkness that shone in his eyes.

Arozal stepped forward. "I am Arozal. I came to see the lord of the city."

The guard growled softly. "You may pass. I warn thee, if thine weapon is drawn, you shall die."

Arozal replied not, merely stepping past the guard. Felimor was at his right, Endeln at his left. They stepped through the broken stone archway, and pressed upon two heavy wooden doors, entering the throne room of the now dead king. The golden throne was scattered in pieces about the room, now replaced by a hideous demon head carved from gray stone, on which the tongue provided a seat.

The fallen king lay against the wall, a sword through his heart. He lay in a pool of dried blood, his eyes still half open. Many scratches and bruises were upon his body, and his mail was damaged beyond repair. His helm lay cloven in two at his side, and his broken blade lay at his feet.

On the demon throne sat a great man, clad in mail as black as night. His eyes were a fiery red color, and his was mouth twisted into a hideous, sadistic grin. A black helm was set upon his head. Great gray horns protruded from the iron helm, and in the center was inset a bright ruby, shining red as blood. At his waist was a belt of silver, a black sheath hanging from it. In the sheath was a black bladed broad sword, with a hilt of silver. Upon the blade were runes, which said "Nauglen zes terender", meaning "The Black One is forever", for Nauglen was the god of darkness and his name meant, The Black One. Upon his hands were clawed gauntlets of black metal, their tips sharp as razors. About him was an aura of evil to which no other could compare.

Arozal stood before the dark warrior, a light of defiance shining in his eyes. His hand grasped the hilt of Yeteres, ready to draw the holy blade at any time. He spoke, challenging the power of darkness that sat before him. "Who art thou that would desecrate the halls of my ancestors? Speak now, or death shall find you swiftly!"

The being of darkness laughed, his dark voice echoing about the destroyed throne room. And then he spoke, and the terror of which his voice brought was unspeakable. "I am Oredun, the Black Knight. These lands I claim in the name of Nauglen, Lord of Anglemour!"

Through the terror of the voice did the three warriors endure, with much strain upon their hearts and souls. And so Felimor stepped forward, speaking to the one who named himself Oredun. "These lands are not yours to claim. None shall bow before Nauglen, for he may bring no darkness upon us, for the people of this world have the grace of Arendil the White."

"Arendil cannot protect you, for Nauglen is greater than he. From my wrath no mortal may escape." Oredun replied, the hatred in his voice growing ever deeper.

"Nay!" Arozal called. "Nauglen is not the greater. If your wrath be upon us, then may you now feel the bite of Yeteres! For I am Arozal, son of Erozal, heir of Coralis!"

Again did the Black Knight laugh. "Such a fool art thou. Now let the truth be known to you!" His hands moved upwards, grasping his helm. He pulled it from his head, setting it upon the ground.

And then did Arozal fall to his knees, for the horror of what sat before him. Tears ran down his cheeks, his hands covering his face. So great was his torment, as he lay there in writhing despair. No longer did he care about the halls of his father, about Arendil, or about the death surrounding him. He could not fight against this demon of the dark, his worst nightmare come true.

The Black Knight laughed, his golden hair shining in the light. His green eyes sparkled red. For he was Erozal, now become Oredun, the Black Knight. "Slay me you cannot," spoke he. "Things are not as you thought, Arozal. Put down your weapons now, and I shall spare your life."

"No!" Arozal shouted. He struggled to pull himself to his feet. He drew Yeteres, the shining white blade flashing to life. He pressed it against the chest of Erozal, the sharp blade against the black mail. "The hour of your death is now upon you."

"Arozal, my son," spoke Erozal. "Would you slay your own father?"

"Yes, for it must be done," replied Arozal, pressing the blade harder against the mail of his father.

"You hesitate," said Erozal, a smile again forming on his face. "Why?"

"I..." Arozal looked upon his father, the man who taught him everything. "I..."

"Arozal," spoke his father. "Put down your blade."

"Y-yes, father..." Arozal sheathed his mighty sword.

"Arozal!" Shouted Felimor. "What has come over you, my friend? Slay him while you have the chance!"

"No," Arozal replied, turning towards his friend. "I will not betray my father. A boy must always serve his father, no matter what. �Tis the way of the world."

"Nay," spoke Felimor. "He is no longer your father. He is a monster."

"Silence!" Shouted Erozal. "Felimor, I took you in. I raised you as if you were my son. This is how you repay me?"

"Indeed, for the Erozal that I loved as a father would not have done this," replied Felimor. "I shall free you from your accursed state."

"Arozal, kill him," Erozal commanded, rage burning within him.

"F-Father... No..." Arozal looked as if he would weep. "W-why?" Tears began to run down his face, his bloodshot brown eyes swollen with grief.

"He would kill me, Arozal. Defend the honor of your father!" Yelled Erozal. His anger filled the room with terror. Endeln fell to his knees, covering his head, waiting for the end.

Arozal nodded, then turned towards Felimor. "I am sorry, Felimor." He drew Yeteres, leaping forward and bringing the blade down hard.

Felimor dove out of the way, drawing his own blade. "Arozal! Stop this madness!" He parried a horizontal blow. Immediately, he jumped to the side, narrowly dodging a thrust from Yeteres.

"I refuse!" Arozal swung again and again, but each time Felimor blocked the powerful attack.

Finally, he could take it no more. Felimor cast his blade upon the ground, raising his arms above his head. "Before my very eyes you have become dark. No longer shall I fight you."

"Slay him now!" Yelled Erozal, smiling triumphantly.

"No," Arozal replied coldly, turning towards his father. "Felimor is right. You are not my father! My father would never have me slay one who is defenseless!"

"Fool!" Cried Erozal. "Now I shall slay you all!"

"No, Oredun," spoke a calm voice. "Do not touch them." Neyteg stood at the doorway, a dead guard behind him on the floor, lying in a puddle of fresh blood.

"Neyteg, you fool!" Erozal stood up, drawing his great sword. "You escaped before, but not again."

The Paladin held his blade in hand, watching his opponent. He turned quickly to Arozal. "Thee must go to the gates of the city. Run as quickly as thou can manage. One-quarter mile east of the city one of my people will be waiting for thee. He�ll take thou to where thou must go."

"I thank thee, Neyteg." Arozal began to leave, followed by Felimor and Endeln. He suddenly turned back to face the older warrior. "Take care of yourself."

"Thee too, my young friend," replied Neyteg. As the others left, he turned towards Erozal. "I know what happened to you, old friend. You can beat the darkness. You can drive away the spirit of Oredun."

"Nay," spoke Erozal. "For I am Oredun. The lands of Anglemour shall be mine. Their heir of Coralis I shall slay, as well as the Serassian.

"Serassian?" Neyteg looked confused, but still he would not let down his guard. He stood steadfastly, watching his enemy.

Oredun chuckled. "The boy, Felimor. He is a Serassian, a Serassian prince. I can smell it in his blood. Ah, I remember how long ago I slaughtered his ancestors. One by one they fell, screaming in pain. How I long to hear the screams again. But tell me, Neyteg. Why have you come back, and at this hour?"

"My scouts reported that one resembling Arozal, accompanied by two others, had entered the city. Arozal was believed to be dead, but I could not take any risks. I made all haste towards this castle, to save them from your treachery."

"You have brought doom upon yourself," spoke Oredun.

Neyteg stepped forward. "Then so be it. I could not let them be slain by you. Now, be gone from this place, Oredun! It ends now!" He rushed forward, swinging his sword.

Oredun countered, then attacked. It seemed they fought forever, dancing back and forth. The sound of sword against sword filled the hall, yet none heard it, save the two combatants. But in the end, Oredun was the greater. "Thine blade is broken!" He called.

Even as Oredun spoke, his sword broke asunder. The shards sprayed about the floor. Neyteg stepped backward, unwilling to give up. For he was a Paladin, never was he powerless. "Yateenly reas, denut conun!" As he finished speaking, a ball of white fire spewed forth from his fingertips. It impacted with Oredun, yet the Black Knight was unharmed.

"Your powers of the light are naught against me." Spoke Oredun, smiling sadistically. "Have you any last words?"

Neyteg stood defiantly; ready to fight to the death. "Arendil, save me!" He called out. "Oredun, even if you slay me, you cannot triumph. In the end, you shall fall. The light shall devour the darkness."

"Never!" Cried Oredun. "I am Oredun, the Black Knight! I am eternal!" He swung his sword at Neyteg, but the Paladin managed to dive out of the way. His sword met with the stonewall, cutting into it. He pulled, but found it stuck.

The few seconds it took Oredun to dislodge his blade proved to be all Neyteg needed. The Paladin sprinted from the room, through the vast crumbling hallways of the castle. He burst from the castle, running through the streets, followed closely behind by guards. "Kill him!" Oredun bellowed from the castle doors.

But they could not catch up to the aging Paladin, for the grace of Arendil was upon him. And so he escaped from the city, making all possible speed towards the hidden fortress.