Young Writers Society

Prologue

The smell of death lingered in the air.

Korsay Jeral ran as fast as he could. Worms of sweat slithered down his face as he sprinted through the dark. Adrenaline surged through his body. The enemy was close.

These are perilous lands, He thought grimly.

He leapt over a log and rolled on the forest floor to break his fall. He continued to run without looking back. Fear consumed him, and his mind struggled to function. He slowed down and quickly turned to see if they were close. There was no sign of them. He jogged slowly and quickly drew his wooden longbow. He notched an arrow into his bowstring. Five arrows remained in his quiver. That wouldn’t be enough to hold them off. He would be dead in seconds.

Suddenly, as he stepped backwards he tumbled into a clearing. He rolled backwards and bow fell from his hand across the forest floor. Korsay cursed at the sharp pain in his calf. He gazed down slowly only to see that his own notched arrow had buried itself at least three inches into his calf. Korsay seeped in pain. I don’t know what hurts more, the pain or the embarrassment.

Korsay did not wait any longer for the wound to fester. He took a hold of the arrow shaft and wrenched it free from his calf. A volcano of blood erupted from his gouge and it flowed down his trousers onto the forest floor. He snivelled and gritted his teeth in agony.

Korsay gently put pressure on the wound to withhold the bleeding. As he let go for a brief moment, more blood spurted from his leg and he cried out in pain. His calf throbbed wildly.

The arrow was still on the floor coated in his own blood. It was best not to waste arrows, so he picked the arrow and fitted it hastily into his bowstring. He stood limply on his wounded leg. It’s only a scratch, he reassured himself.

He had to start moving again or they would catch up to him. He began to limp along through the clearing, still alert as ever ready for when they came. As a personal scout for the King of Eldermere himself, he never let his guard down, no matter the circumstances.

It was Korsay’s duty to find out what was occurring in the Forbidden Lands and report back to King Rupus. However fate had other plans. When he entered the borders, it was not long until he saw the army. There were thousands of them.

It was only later when he discovered that the dark necromancer, Void was behind it all. He had been building an army during his banishment to the Forbidden Lands and now he was going to strike. If he didn’t return to Eldermere with his message, Void’s wrath would creep down from the north and engulf Axion like a fiery blaze.

They were probably close on his trail now. Korsay had been on the run for at least three hours. However, with his wounded knee, the chances of him being able to report back to his King seemed slim.

Korsay limped along as fast as he could with his bow string pulled back, ready to fire. He panted heavily, each breath getting louder. He peered down at his wound that had become increasingly fatal.

I need to stop losing blood so quickly. He thought hastily.

If he lost any more blood he would be too weak to even walk. Korsay quickly kneeled down, wary of how little time he had, and he ripped a piece of cloth from his ragged tunic and tied it around his bloodied gash. It certainly didn’t help the pain, however, there was less blood brimming ferociously from his leg now, and that was a good sign. Korsay looked up to check if any of them were near. There was no sign of them. Night was drawing closer and the Forbidden Lands were no place to be at dark.

Suddenly a cold, steel serrated blade from behind him was held against his throat.

His heart sank. It was over. Korsay remained still, careful not to move his neck too suddenly and slit his own throat. He looked up ahead and there they were.

The Goulrath.

They stood in a line opposite him. Their pale grey skin seemed to dimly glow in the approaching moonlight. The calculating blood-red eyes remained unmoving, staring menacingly at him. All of them had blood stained fangs gaping from their mouths. A few of them were each in thick metal armour with spiked steel helms. Their shoulder plates were covered in short, knife-like horns. Korsay was shaking.

Each Goulrath was equipped with a long serrated two-handed greatsword. Each of them had a dagger fixed tightly to their belt. Some of them had a bow and quiver, but Goulrath were never known to have a good aim with a bow.

The Goulrath with the blade to his neck began to speak in a low growling voice, as if a thousand different beasts were speaking at once. “Well look what we have here.”

The Goulrath kicked him forward and he fell on his face pathetically. Korsay turned around on his back and spat out a mouthful of dirt. He stared into the eyes of what seemed to be the largest of the five Goulrath. The monster stared down at him perilously.

The foul creature raised its sword and Korsay watched the blade descend upon him.

Korsay reacted quickly, rolling out of the way. The Goulrath’s large sword buried itself in the ground and Korsay quickly kicked the Goulrath’s leg and it toppled over onto the ground with a clang of crunching armour. The Goulrath grunted in humiliation and Korsay leapt to his feet. He felt his calf seize up and he cried out in pain. Albeit, the agony grew into adrenaline and his instincts kicked it. He gritted his teeth, drew his sword from his scabbard and faced the oncoming Goulrath, a look of defiance upon his face.

Better to die with a sword in hand than my face in the dirt.

Korsay was nowhere near as good with a sword as he was with a bow nevertheless he still could hold his own against any talented swordsman. An oncoming Goulrath swung its large greatsword clumsily and Korsay parried it with ease. The clang of the two swords rattled in his ears. Another Goulrath from behind him tried to lunge at his back but Korsay swiftly sidestepped the blade and slashed frantically at its armour. The Goulrath stumbled backwards and came to a stop. The creature quickly ripped its dented chest plate off and cast it away into the dirt, revealing a pale muscular chest, ridden with scars and bulging veins. The Goulrath snarled as its grip tightened on the greatsword.

Korsay twirled his castle-forged blade through his hands and slowly edged backwards. The five Goulrath were forming an arc and approached him slowly. They gazed hungrily at Korsay like ravenous beasts.

The first Goulrath charged wailing its sword in the air and shouting its battle-cry in a harsh sounding native tongue. As it slashed at Korsay’s head, he ducked and plunged his blade into the Goulrath’s thigh. It shrieked out in pain and dark purple blood oozed onto Korsay’s sword. He ripped his cold steel from its thigh and swung his elegant sword towards the shrieking Goulrath’s neck, decapitating it instantly.

The Goulrath’s headless corpse collapsed to the ground like a rock. Korsay drew in cold gulps of air, chilling his lungs. The corpse stunk of a foul odour, one that Korsay had never had the misfortune of witnessing before.

Fierce fighting followed. There were flashes of black naked steel that slashed through the frosty air. Korsay parried the graceless blows and let his elegant blade slashing through their armour. The Goulrath were large and were all at least a foot taller than Korsay, albeit, their swordplay was stagnant and lifeless. However, Korsay struggled to overcome the pain in his leg and attempted to identify the chink in their armour.

Korsay couldn’t see anything through his dazed vision. Suddenly fearsome Goulrath emerged from the distance shouting at the top of its lungs ready to plunge its sword into his chest. Korsay quickly dived out of the way from the mad Goulrath’s reach. He was weary and could not get up from the floor. While Korsay was on the floor the Goulrath brought its greatsword down at Korsay’s head. The scout quickly moved his head to the side and the sword dug deep into the ground, only a few inches from his face. The Goulrath let go of the sword and let it quiver in the ground. The Goulrath drew a knife from its scabbard and plunged the knife towards Korsay’s face. Korsay kicked the Goulrath in the stomach and it yelled out in pain but the knife went off-course and into Korsay’s left thigh.

“Arrrgh!” he screamed, wailing out in pain.

The pain was too great. The sharp stabbing sensation erupted through his whole leg. He didn’t know what to do. He looked down at the knife sticking upright out of his leg. A volcano of blood was unleashed and it spewed out over his leg soaking his trousers in red. A sea of endless rambling thoughts flooded his mind. He felt his life tumble through a vortex of confusion and pain.

Then he fell back to reality. Korsay didn’t think, he just reacted. In one movement, he ripped the dagger for his thigh, leapt to his feet and launched the knife through the air and towards the group of Goulrath. The dagger span through the air and it hit the armourless Goulrath in the neck. The naked Goulrath choked and its mouth filled with purple blood. It grabbed its throbbing neck in agony, stumbled backwards and fell to the ground like a ragdoll.

Korsay clutched his leg and staggered forward. He doubted that he was going to be able to slay the other three Goulrath warriors. An arrow suddenly whizzed past his ear from behind him. He instantly turned round to face the silent archer. Four more Goulrath archers emerged from the trees, bows aiming down on him. His blood curdled.

He turned around again, panicking. Multiple Goulrath archers had surrounded him. He counted twenty one in total, including the three foot soldiers who had pursued him through the forest. There was nowhere to run now. He had failed his mission and he could no longer report back to Eldermere. Void would send out his Goulrath armies and decimate the Six Great Cities of Axion with the element of surprise. The Great Cities would be unprepared for battle and would likely be defeated against the armies of the north. All at the hands of Korsay.

One of the foot soldiers stepped forward and spoke in a deep husky voice, “Surrender to us, or face your peril.”

Korsay thought to himself. Was there any way out of this situation? Maybe the luck of the Three Gods was with him and the Kingsguard would attack just in time. Should he delay them? Korsay didn’t know what to do. He was weak, confused, lost. And soon, maybe even dead.

Korsay gazed around and examined every archer whose bows were aimed on him. There was no easy way out of this. Korsay knelt down towards the Goulrath and bowed his head. His hand was on the hilt of his sword and the tip of his blade digging into the ground. He put his fist against his chest, saluting the Goulrath. The archers released their aim and lowered their bows.

“I, Korsay Jeral, hereby give my life and honour to Necromancer Void to pledge my legion to him. I will serve Lord Void until my soul leaves this realm and enters the Afterlife. Void has my sword and bow and my loyalty to the end of my days.” He vowed staring into the deep blood-red eyes of the Goulrath.

There was an uncanny silence.

The Goulrath smiled. He walked over towards Korsay and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You made a wise decision, mortal. You proved yourself to be an excellent warrior and you shall serve Lord Void well. Now stand.”

I am sorry, King Rupus. I have failed you.

“I would rather die than serve you monsters!” and in one swift movement he clutched his sword and leapt to his feet. There was a flurry of panic among the host of Goulrath.

He lunged and drove his sword through the Goulrath’s belly and it instantly stiffened up and gasped for life. Dark purple blood dribbled from the belly of the spluttering beast. The Goulrath slowly slid off Korsay’s blade and slumped back onto the ground.

The archers fumbled in confusion and reloaded their bows clumsily. Korsay charged at the two other Goulrath warriors and he swiftly dodged their attacks whilst allowing his blade to hack through their legs. There were two cries of distress and they dropped to their ground, legless, slowly dying in a pool of their own thick purple blood.

Korsay raised his blade and cried his final words, “For Axion!” and darted forwards towards the remaining Goulrath. His sword spun frantically in his blood-coated hands and uncontrollable rage filled his eyes.

A rain of arrows came from every direction and sent stabs of incredible pain all over his body. One arrow dug deep into his thigh, another penetrating his arm. Another whizzed through his ribs and the most fatal arrow struck him in the chest and ripped through his flesh and into his beating heart. Korsay whimpered, eyes wide, body frozen and fell limply into the dirt.

It was all over. As the blood left his body, he felt it immediately freeze over as it greeted the icy air. Blood encrusted over his wounds and with every slight movement a searing wave of pain overcame him.

Korsay’s head slumped to the right and he watched the Goulrath archers disappear into the trees. The full moon illuminated the surrounding forest. Korsay gazed upwards into the stars and smiled.

I have failed you, my King. He thought his final thoughts. Korsay slowly inhaled his final gulps of frosty air and his eyes slowly shut as he felt his soul drift from his body and into the Afterlife.