Epoch of the Last Blood
Chapter 1
Serkan Zilas carefully turned the shining glass doorknob in his dark room and slowly pulled it toward himself. He cursed at the door as it creaked noisily open. He poked his head out into the dimly lit corridor and stood motionless, listening for footsteps heading his way. Fortunately no one had heard him, exhaling a long sigh of relief he tiptoed silently in the direction of his father's bedchamber. Serkan was fed up with his father, Hurodun, King of Erian, who had been very harsh and abusive throughout his childhood. Now finally, he could be rid of him. He grabbed at the dagger he kept at his side at all times. It was not beautifully encrusted with jewels, or bits of silver and gold. The hilt was made of black leather, nothing special. The blade however was a smoothly cut specimen of obsidian with razor – sharp coiled edges.
He had turned the corner and was just outside his fathers' bedroom when he saw that the door had opened slightly. He peered inside and found his older brother Murad standing over his fathers' oblivious, sleeping form with a dagger held at the ready. Just then his vizier, Chandarli Pasha ambled up behind him dressed in his ridiculously large, blue nightgown with a matching nightcap. He was just about to open his mouth in horror at the scene when Serkan pounced on him, covered the gaping wide hole and shoved his head into the opening of the door. Serkan knew his brother had struck Hurodun because he had heard the blade slice down and pierce his father's heart and he felt Chandarli moan and gag beneath his hand.
"Sound the alarm, and bring my soldiers to me!" he whispered, and let go of the weeping man, as he sped off to do as he was bid.
Murad stood over his father's bed in shock. I've killed him! He thought. I've actually killed Hurodun!
"I'm king." He muttered to himself. Now he was ruler of Erian, the heir to the throne. Though his task was not yet complete, he would blame his heartless brother for the murder, and send him to the dungeon to wait for his dire execution. As if reading his thoughts, a cold voice replied,
"Am I next, brother?"
He was so locked up in his thoughts that he almost didn't hear the quiet voice. He whirled around, not surprised to see Serkan creeping up behind him. Murad tried desperately to reach back and dig out the dagger still protruding from his fathers' chest, but he was not fast enough. Serkan advanced, whipping out his dagger and thrusting it deep into his brothers' unprotected stomach.
Murad sucked in a startled breath as Serkan sharply twisted the hilt, causing the coiled blade to painfully rearrange his organs. Tears erupted from his eyes as he looked down at his tunic, watching a waterfall of warm, damp blood trickle down, staining the hardwood floor. When he looked back up at Serkan, he saw two cold eyes laughing with delight.
Murad gave a choked gag as his brother pulled the dagger from his body and darkness formed all around him just before he crashed to the floor.
Serkan turned from the gruesome sight, where he found many faces of his army gaping at him with mixed expressions of fear and awe, just outside the door. He strode confidently out of the room, where he addressed a group of pathetic men holding their spears in a shaky salute.
"Remove the carcasses from the room, bar the door, and then bury the bodies somewhere outside the castle. I never want to hear about the incident that has taken place tonight, ever again. Is that understood?" he glared down at them. They all nodded vigorously. Standing up to his full height he gazed deep into the eyes of all the men standing around him. He saw pure terror in their eyes, a nervousness of the loss of their ruler. He planned to take advantage of that fact.
"Weak, that's what this army is. Your past King has turned you into worthless scum! It is now time for a change. I will create an undefeated, stronger Zilantine army. Under my rule we shall take complete control of the Strait and Empires of Erian. All others shall perish under my heel! Prepare for war and victory men! We will take the cities of Erian one by one." Serkan motioned to Chandarli to follow him then turned his back to the army and headed to his room. A man among the crowd threw a fist in the air and bellowed,
"All hail the almighty Serkan Zilas, King and Terror of all Erian!" The army banged their spears against the floor and cheered wildly as the group moved towards the room of the dead, to do as they were bid by their new King.
Inside his room Serkan grabbed a cloth from the bedside table, wiping off his dagger slowly while listening to the cheers erupting from the corridor, chuckling evilly to himself.
"I must pray to my brother, to thank him for getting the job of murdering our father over with. Ruling the empire of Erian seems to be easier than I thought." He smiled at Chandarli.
"Ye are a monster!" the fat vizier gasped.
Ignoring him, Serkan strolled slowly across his dark room then stopped at a beautifully engraved, wooden cabinet. He looked down and clasped his hands over the glass knobs and pulled the doors slowly toward his body. The large cabinet revealed a large, black suit of armor, molded just to fit his body.
"Help me put this on, will ye, vizier?" He grabbed at a piece of the armor, and dusting it off, the black steel shone in the moonlight.
"I will no, ye vermin! I shall never work for a murdering, filthy scum such as yerself. Ye can fergit it man! Yer father was a decent man, and a respected King, ye should be ashamed fer calling yerself his son." Outraged he started to turn toward the door. Serkan bounded behind him pushing him roughly to the wall with the dagger pressed up against the flabby skin of his back. Serkan clicked his tongue in disappointment at Chandarli,
"Are you sure you wish to make that choice? Because you never know, it could be the death of you." he confirmed his words with a sharp stab of his blade. Chandarli gave a squeal and felt warm blood trickle from where the blades tip had pierced him. The contact of the cold blade and the warm ooze made him shiver, which drove the blade in deeper.
"All right," he pleaded, tears coursing down his cheeks, "I'll work for ye, scum! Just dinnae hurt me anymore. A groan of relief burst from his lips as he felt the blade leave his body, and he sunk to the floor.
"You shall call me Lord from now on. Help me suit up, then inform the army that after they bury my pathetic family, we shall march and raid each city of Erian. Take whoever you can to build my army, all who refuse shall die." Feeling slightly muddled, Chandarli stood up from the floor and stepped gingerly toward Serkan,
"Which city do you wish to take first, my lord?" Serkan motioned to a large map of Erian on his wall, and threw his blood stained dagger toward it. Startled, Chandarli attempted an unnecessary duck, peeking through his eyes at the map.
"Rusyn." Serkan replied.
A misty night had fallen upon the diminutive village of Rusyn. A cold wind blustered through a cracked hut and put out the small, crackling fire in the chimney. A burly man hurriedly fed the fire with bits of timber and blew hard at the fire, choking as he sucked in the toxic fumes. His wife, Gemma lay huddled on the floor with her two children, attempting to cover them in a small wool blanket, humming a tune under her breath. Her seven year old son lay beside his younger sister, dazedly twisting his hair on one finger and fighting to keep his eyes open as he listened to his mother's song. Gemma smiled down at him and brushed his soft chestnut, brown hair out of his matching eyes. She leaned down and kissed the cinnamon colored skin on his forehead, causing him to close his eyes to reveal long black lashes almost grazing his cheeks. He smiled in content and shifted over to lay an arm across his toddler sister, Jenny and let himself fall into a hazy sleep. Gemma shivered and turned to her husband.
"Iris," she reached out to grab her husband's hand, "Come get warm, you are going to freeze if you stand there all night." He smiled and turned to reply when commotion reached his ears and he ushered to the door, peeking through a sizeable crack. Gemma shifted uneasily.
"Iris?" she whispered, "What is it?" Iris stood there only a second then hoisted his wife onto her feet then bent down to tend to the children.
"The city is up in flames, Gemma! A surprise raid I expect. I need you to take the children down to the underground tunnel I dug in case of emergency, take them through it and run into the woods until you find safety." He picked up Jenny and placed her in Gemma's arms, giving more instructions to follow. By this time their son was wide awake. Curious as to what was going on, he snuck over to the door and jumped in an attempt to reach the crack to see what the commotion was about, when a large bang on the door caused his to jump back in surprise. His mother hissed at him to step away from the door as he watched his father grab a baton lying in the corner. He felt his mothers arm wrap around him tightly and pull him away to the stairs leading to their only escape. His father moved to open the door, baton at the ready.
"Wait!" he cried, "What about--" he was cut off as the whole area around the door went up in flames. Iris cried out as his hand made contact with the flaming wood and backed away, screaming at his wife who was standing still in shocked horror.
"Gemma! Get those kids down stairs now!" this seemed to snap her out of her reverie and she hurriedly bustled down the stairs, with her children, dirt showering on their heads as they crawled through the muck. A deafening crash sounded from above, followed by the sound of Iris's screams silenced by the clash of a blade penetrating his flesh. At the sound tears poured from Gemma's eyes, a rage for her husband coursed through her like a lightning bolt, yet the frightened faces of her only link to Iris was the only thing that kept her from fleeing to do battle with whoever was at the door. She urged them on calmly, sliding easily through the grime.
Her son was the first to reach the opening at the end of the tunnel. He peered out only to find blood, and bodies scattered on the ground. There were men on horses, dressed in armor, using weapons to hit or stab the people they chased, laughing wickedly in triumph. His mother came up behind him and covered his eyes, encouraging him not to look at the disturbing scene. She picked up a cutlass lying forgotten on the ground and pushed her children towards a nearby forest. The whinnying of a horse caused them to turn their heads from their desired destination.
A large black horse galloped toward them through a jungle of fire, an impressive sight of evil and death. Its mane flapped gracefully against the blustery wind, while large impressive muscles bulged out of its skin. The horses' rider was totally engulfed in shining black armor, chain mail fluttering carelessly against his broad, powerful form, his helmet pointing straight in their direction. Gemma locked eyes with her predator, trying not to panic at the monster approaching. He moved swift and gracefully upon the horse, nudging its side painfully to get it to move rapidly. The knights' eyes blazed into hers with a fiery hunger to kill, determination controlling his every move. Gemma screamed and shoved her kin into the shrubbery and moved to wield her cutlass at the approaching enemy. But the knight drew forth and wielded a mace carelessly high above his head, as if it weighed no more than a buoyant feather, striking it down hard upon Gemma's skull, killing her instantly. He ushered the horse forward, running over her broken body with a sickening crunch. The knight then dropped the mace on the ground next to Gemma's body, drawing forth a sword from the scabbard at his side.
Jenny stood flabbergasted, staring open mouthed at her mothers' corpse lying crumpled and bloody on the ground. Tears sprouted from her eyes as she reached out and started towards the figure, not realizing that the black knight had turned around and was now galloping in her direction. Reacting with haste, her brother quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her into the shrubbery. They scrambled through, running against the wind, twigs and pine needles poking into their skin as they urged onward, totally aware of the frightening sound of hooves beating against the ground behind them. Looking back they saw the majestic horse dodging trees and leaping over bushes with swiftness and grace that was almost admirable. The knight looked as if these obstacles didn't faze him in the slightest. He kicked at the horses' side violently, rapidly increasing his speed. Legs burning, the children raced forward, the cold chill of the night doing nothing for the hot sweat that mingled with the blood, dripping from their bodies. Jenny shrieked in fright as she turned her head back and saw the knight upon them. She continued to howl as she peered ahead and saw a ditch before her, causing her to pause and pull back in fright. Her scream was silenced when the weight of the horse's leg trampled her small body, ripping her hand away from her brother's grasp. The sword made an attempt to stab at him, missed and sliced at the child's arm, still reaching for his sister. Not realizing the ground had left his feet, he was thrown mercilessly into the depths of a muddy ditch. The knight and his steed came to an abrupt stop, barely staying balanced on the edge. The horse whinnied and backed up, bucking wildly in fright. As soon as the horse had settled, the knight jumped down off his horse and removed his helmet. Serkan stared down into the darkness, smiling wickedly in triumph of the annihilation of his victims. He mounted his horse after a time and rode off into the night to join his army.