Foreword: I HAVE RETURNED! Yes many of you have said things to the point of: DUDE WHY DID YOU END YOUR STORY END LIKE THAT! Well I was going to tell you about the part two at the end of part one, but because of technical difficulties it didn't work. But here it is. Now a bit about this chapter: There is a bit of boring stuff in books like character development and foundation and plot, but I'm afraid there will be a lot of that in part two. (That's a sarcastic way of saying part two will be better than part one) Also there is a bunch of (truly) boring yet essential stuff that needs to be covered, and most of that will be in chapter one so that its out of the way and we don't have to spend forever talking about how Tarus' government works. So read on, enjoy my genius, and review!

PART TWO

Chapter I: The new empire

"Although his life had been a tormenting inferno that raged within his mind, Geoffrey had been able to withstand insanity until just this moment. Rage had ruled his life although he dreamed of peace. He dreamed that the hate, the anger had no place in this world; that he could live the rest of his years happily… but this was not so. He drew the knife, and with one fatal…" Tarus was startled by one of his guards. The man, adorned in colorful blue robes intertwined with chain mail, rattled into the library where Tarus was enthralled in a book, "M'lord the horses are ready." Tarus sighed in annoyance as he set down his book entitled The Man without a Soul, and followed the guard out of the library. Tarus thought about the book he was reading as he and the guard passed through the winding halls of Bowerstone Manor, and into the entry parlor. It reflected Tarus' life greatly, although he wouldn't admit it to himself. This man had led a very dark life indeed, much like the sorrowful life of Geoffrey. Tarus straitened his cloak, and tightened his sheathe as the guard opened the large front door. The fresh cool air of the fall breeze quickly swept into the room, regenerating Tarus who breathed the scent of the world in deeply as he set out into his kingdom. Two other guards stood by their horses bowed low at the sight of their king. Tarus briefly smiled at the gesture as he walked toward his horse. The horse on which the king rode was a deep brown, almost black color. It was strong, physically and mentally, yet its eyes held a mysterious look, a wizened and thoughtful glare that pierced the very soul of men who looked deep enough into the steed's eyes. The horse was much like its master, who leapt up quickly into the saddle of the horse as he, and his companions set out on a weekly hunting trip.

The horse's hooves thundered down the old streets of Bowerstone as the five men rushed out of the town and towards the inner gate, and then on through the outer vicinity of the town. The horses continued their journey to the outer gate where the group stopped to await the gate's opening. Tarus looked at the massive gate as it slowly creaked open. The gate had areas that had been patched together with boards, especially down the middle where huge areas had been completely reconstructed. It was a slightly fearsom sight to behold with its jagged edges and thrown-together steel braces.This gate had obviously been attacked by either a troll…or a battering ram. Tarus had fleeting thoughts of the history of this gate. He reminisced about the old days when war was at this town's doorstep, and the now peaceful townsfolk were cowering in horror. Tarus quickly took hold of himself for the gate was now open. The horses rode out over the moat bridge and into the remains of Greatwood forest. Tarus was reminded again of the past. Every time he left Bowerstone and entered the charred remnants of the great forest his thoughts rode back into the horrors of the past. Tarus had become skilled at brushing aside his thoughts, but the forest had a presence about it that had been hard to deny. The forest was nothing but black jagged spikes coming up from the earth. The charred tree trunks speared the ashy air. Like teeth of some great beast, the fearsome spikes sat ominously; their fearsome aura blending with the soft wind to almost seem as if they were speaking. Speaking the past...the horrible past. The smell of smoke had never left the earth, and grey ash flew gracefully through the sky like snow. All were scars left from the past…

"I am Tarus," said the cloaked man on the podium. No one had ever seen this character, and honestly no one wanted to. His clothes were bloody and torn, and his face bore a crude scar that still bled. The people had crept out of their homes by the command of fearsome army of Tarus. Their faces were fearful, and they held their children close for fear of their lives. The townspeople had not seen the war that had recently raged outside of their homes, but they had heard the roar of battle tearing the air like a beast toying with satin cloth. Tarus had one last act to perform before the land was his. People were required to fill his kingdom. People provided economy, economy provided Tarus with his glorious kingdom. Tarus knew he must choose his words wisely or suffer the consequences of his new people's rebellion. This was the moment that all of Tarus' previous efforts rode upon.

"Do you know why I am here?" said Tarus as the people stood in fearful silence.

"To save you," murmurs filled the crowd. "I am here to save you from your burdens. To save you, out of pity. Pity for my people." The crowd looked curious "Surly you have not been able to bear the weight of Lady Grey's torment. I know that you, my people, have yearned for freedom from her countless and equally ridiculous laws. No personal weapons, extra taxes on almost everything." Tarus thought furiously on anything else he had to work with. Then an idea came, "And in addition... her mysterious personal life." Tarus paced as he cast radiant gestures with his hands, "You know of the disappearance of her sister?" some members of the crowd nodded, the governess had been accused of the disappearance of her sister, and the evidence against her was very convincing. "You, my good citizens, have been hidden away from the truth." Tarus thought hard on how to make the previous ruler of Albion look as terrible as possible, all the while keeping am extremely compelling aura. "You have not heard, however, of her alliance with the bandits." The murmurs grew louder. "Yes," Tarus continued as he tried to hide a smile. The people were slowly falling for it. "The bandits, the Hobbes, even some pirates," many in the crowds gasped. Tarus stopped suddenly. What he had just said would surely be his downfal. Surely the people weren't that stupid. Most of his army was pirates, some even bandits. He waited a moment while expecting the crowd to catch onto his mistake...but it did not come. It was too easy. Tarus regained his footing and continued. The speechwent onand revealed countless conspiracies and plots in which Lady Grey attempted to conquer other cities and falsely accuse Mr. so-and-so of a fake crime in order for him to be hanged. Eventually the town was in an uproar against the governess, but Tarus managed to calm them. "My good people. Out of the goodness of my heart I wish to free you from the torment Lady Grey has caused, and hopefully rebuild our land into a peaceful realm for all." He ended his hardly heartfelt speech in a humble glare towards the ground. He could now only wait for the crowds reaction. Surprisingly, the crowd erupted in a roar of delight…

A chill shook Tarus back into the present, and out of the labyrinth of the past. The sound of the people's cheers haunted Tarus now as he rode through the destruction of Albion. He felt the deep, scar that ran down across his face, from the bottom of his right eye, almost to his chin. He winced as he felt the jagged mark that still pained him as much as the day he received the received it.

It had been a long, long time since Albion had been conquered. The campaign had wound through the land demolishing the main cities of the world with an iron fist, yet slowly Tarus had begun rebuilding the world, shaping it into exactly what he wanted it to be. It had been his dream to have power, and now that he had it, Tarus would use his gift to the fullest. Yet the thoughts of conquests, conspiracies, and the shaping of worlds were for another time for hunting was the current occupant of time. Hunting had become a passion for Tarus, as well as books, and many other small diversions. He had no time for these pleasures previously, for his time was always occupied by quests, battles, and men in masks trying to kill him, but now he had the time to leisurely enjoy life.

The men dismounted their horses, andprepared for the hunt. Tarus drew a bow, as did the others, except for Bob who took an interest in falcon hunting. Bob's majestic bird had wide, brown wings, and talons that could pierce the flesh of any creature it wished to kill. Bob let the beautiful bird fly off into the forest to hunt for game while he observed its brilliant flight that wound through the tall forest. Tarus and the other two guards would have a contest to see who could strike down the most prey. Tarus always won, but the others had false hope that one day they could hit something. As he began to walk into the woods, Tarus seemed to switch into a different mode of thinking. He spun around to see a pheasant perched upon a nearby branch. The other guards turned to see what Tarus did, but only saw a puff of feathers. "Off to a good start" he said with a muted since of humor.

The hunt was a succes for Tarus, who wound through the dense forest, shooting quite a few good peices of game. Tarus continued the hunt and eventually shot two pheasants and a young boar. He could have gotten more, but if Tarus actually tried the world would quickly become devoid of the creatures. Nothing interesting happened on this trip. As always Tarus won, yet Bob and his Falcon came out with enough rabbits for a weeks worth of stew. The trip was somewhat short, but Tarus always enjoyed a bit of fresh air; for a day's worth of ruling Albion awaited him back at Bowerstone.

Once in the city, Tarus dealt with the many tasks presented him. First came the overall factor of the new Albion. The campaign of so long ago had left the land wounded, and these wounds must be mended. Bowerstone was the first to be fully rebuilt for it was basically the capital of Albion, and then came some smaller outposts that had dwelt in the woods. All of these had been utterly destroyed, but by the same speech given at the conquering of Bowerstone, and support from the converted citizens, the outposts accepted Tarus as their leader. This had taken two years to fully complete. Now the town of Oakvale was to be rebuilt. There were no survivors after the town had been demolished so long ago. It had been a massacre, and now the remnants of the city would have to be completely rebuilt and repopulated. This task was far into the future, but Tarus had time.

Today rebuilding would not have a space in his so called "Schedule". Today Tarus would go about his other rounds. Daily criminals and delinquents had to be dealt with. According to the current, temporary justice system, any criminals caught would spend one night in Bowerstone prison and then Tarus himself would decide further punishment. As long as there weren't many crimes committed, this form of justice was sufficient. Today there was only one felon, a young boy with a knife attempted to stab a man's scarecrow and allegedly tore off a hay-filled limb. Tarus would not tire himself with a walk to the prison for such a petty nuisance so he sent a messenger with this note:

Dear warden,

YOU BLOODY FOOL WHY MUST YOU TIRE ME WITH SUCH

POINTLESS CRIMES! Confiscate the lad's knife and smack him over the head.

-Tarus

Today was painfully routine. After only two years Tarus had grow tired of ruling Albion. He didn't feel like a glorious ruler, or a tyrant with armies at his feet ready to vanquish countless enemies. In fact, his army was the only army, and even civil war was out of the question for his kingdom's population was extremely minute. Ruling the world was actually boring. In order to pass the time, Tarus decided to have a sparring match with his most trusted guard, Bob.

Tarus drew his sword, a small training blade that was stained and scratched with age. Bob did the same, and in an instant the match began. Tarus never lost a spar either, but thought that maybe he could teach Bob something in the art of war. Tarus began to fight without much enthusiasm at all. He came down with average speed to Bobs left and then the right, alternating back and forth in a repetitive motion. Bob did the same. They danced back and forth monotonously for a moment until Bob spoke, "M'lord I see no point in this training unless men in the field fight like a dead chicken." Tarus had not remembered ever showing Bob his true power so he thought today would be a good day to do so.

Tarus quickly stopped Bob's slow onslaught with a powerful force. Bob smiled as he pushed with all his might against the inhuman strength of Tarus. Tarus then twisted his blade, breaking the gridlock and sending Bob flying to the side. Tarus easily cut have chopped the guard in half then, but decided to toy with him. Bob barely managed to block the raging Tarus who flew at him with unmatched speed. The blows came like rain, so quickly it was as if Tarus was striking five blows at once. Tarus saw every opening to strike a fatal blow. He saw so many ways to kill Bob. A strike to the head when Bob's guard was low, or a slight spin could have put a hole right in his heart. Tarus was a master in the act of taking lives. He could kill thousands in a matter of seconds. His skill was almost inhuman. This was seen by Bob, who began to fear for his life as his blade grew hot from the beatings it was taking. Bob could see a look in Tarus' eye as he put all of his effort into fighting. It scared him. Tarus' eyes looked like a raging fire, a menacing glare that pieced him like a blade. Tarus was unrelenting as his blinding fury almost caused him to cleave his bodyguard's head in two. Tarus was becoming unaware of the situation and prepared a finishing blow. He brought down his sword with all the might in his body as Bob put up a relatively weak block.

As Tarus' sword struck Bob's, it made an oddly dull clinking sound. Tarus' sword then shattered. The steel fragments shot out in all directions, some sticking into the wall others narrowly missing windows. Tarus threw down the only remnants of his sword as he panted furiously. "Learn anything?" Tarus asked sarcastically. Bob fell to his knees with exhaustion, "Not to ask for instruction."

please review! (it wasnt that great but i promise you'll love chapter 2! LOADS of blood and gore and fighting...all that good stuff)