Long long ago, 

But not too long ago

There was a time Wence hope did not prevail

For a kingdom was Torn apart and

never  put back together

The homes of such

The souls of such

The hearts of such

Shattered,

Never glued back together

But

there comes a time where heroes prevail;

Appearing from the known shadows to help others,

For the day’s time,

While others cower in fear, 

One such being arises 

And helps give peace and hope to the people,

For the day is anew, as with the night.

 

In the land of Innoxos - The kingdom of Ekkai - 

Darkness has taken ahold of the hearts of the people

A sinister being sits upon the throne;

he by the name of Drellverr

The original king was down below; six feet to be exact.

The devil’s soldiers  patrol the streets,

Offering no freedom

No happiness,

no hope; 

He laughing nefariously with the

Sadistic pride of his,

Knowing none of the people would rebel,

For he, was their ultimate fate.

Day after day, night after night

The people rioted less and less

Finding no point in fighting, for if they did

They died, Torn to shreds, their blood staining and 

Tainting the kingdom’s floor,

Never to be washed away from the elements.

Men were taken from homes to become the devil’s pawns.

Women and children unable to defend themselves,

Becoming victims to his original terrors.

The time grew longer with each year, a decade past.

The people grew soulless,

Living with  his evil doings,

Unable to do anything at all.

 

Within the kingdom of Deroene

A challenger against evil has arisen.

Finally, a way to aid their sister kingdom,

to banish the darkness that still sat on the throne.

He of the people’s love and respect,

With shining armor adorning his flesh.

He was the one to save Ekkai.

The great hero promised to restore the faith

In the people of his kingdom’s sister.

He promised to restore their passion.

He promised to restore their freedom.

He promised to restore their throne.

For if he not, his own line would ban him forevermore,

For he was of god’s blood.

Not of God, but of gods’;

Of the mighty beings that watch over the land from above.

He was of that blood.

With the goddess of Victory’s blood

And the God of Strategy’s brain,

He would be able to defeat the horrid Drellverr

And restore peace among the lost land that so desperately needed saving.

 

With an army of two hundred, the mighty warrior cruised the sea

Heading towards Ekkai, sword in hand,

a gaze of fierce intent on his face.

He could see the land before him,

the land that he would save and he alone.

Aye, he brought the soldiers,

But they, as it may be, were more for

pomp and circumstance,

Nothing else.

He and only he would banish the mighty Drellverr, 

For he is Srerthos, kin of gods’ blood.

Strength and wit his sword and shield, not brandished by metal, but by mind.

As the land drew nearer, the male stood there, wondering if this

Would be where he would draw his last breath.

Death as such would be the only honorable way to go.

Death by the demon, not by stupidity nor age.

 

Upon arriving, the ship was docked,

the 200 soldiers plus one headed towards the palace,

Whereupon the throne past ten thousand steps,

Sat the mighty evil that has made despair his delight

Staring up at the steps, Srerthos knew that only he

Would be able to surpass the challenge

“Stay here, forbide those who wish to pass. Only I, alone, can triumph.”

With that, two hundred soldiers took their post among the steps

Allowing the evil banisher to travel ahead alone.

 

Every hundred steps, a new foe awaited, each worse than the one before

Some being straight duels

While others were puzzles and riddles

At the nine thousandth and nine hundredth step,

Srerthos was faced by a challenge unlike any of the others

There stood his parents

The God of Strategy and the Goddess of Victory

“For why are you here?”

“To tell you to turn back, this will not be a battle you will win.”

“Go back and train more, come back in another fortnight”. 

“Your enemy will be too strong.”

“You will die, even I see that as so.”

Strategy’s and Victory’s words resounded in his mind

But was his own mind, and his alone, just as this battle would be

“Be that as it may be, I have conquered the past challenge,

and if this may be my last, then let me lay with honor and pride.” 

They stood, staring at one another, eye to eye, heart to heart, blood to blood.

Then, the mighty beings dissipated within the air, granting the hero passage.

 

Another hundred steps later, and there, on a throne of darkness

Sat evil personified

Smirking, knowing the fate of the challenger.

It was now that Evil Bringer and the Evil Banisher would fight

To the death, once and for all. 

 

Several minutes passed by, and not a word was spilled.

Then, all at once, Srethos charged for Drellverr.

The battle had begun at last.

The clashing of metal swords echoed in the winds

Grunts and cries of war leaving the two dancing fingers, 

They dancing a dance of death

Blood splattered onto the floor

Staining their clothes and flesh as well

Not able to discern who’s was who’s

Nor who was winning or losing

 

Minutes turned to hours, and as they passed,

both men grew weary of their fight

Unable to truly outdo another, they fought until they could not

Tiring each other and throwing slashes in every which way

to weaken their foe.

This continued until nightfall, through the sounds of the nocturnal creatures thriving

 

As dawn finally rose, the winner was shown.

 

There they both laid

Bloody and mutilated

Unable to move nor fight one another anymore

The hero, missing an arm

The villan, missing a leg

Srerthos, with heavy breathes, watched his enemy

The mighty demon, the evil bringer, take his last breath, his body going limp.

He had won the fight. 

At what cost?

The cost of the people.

Now, they would be able to reestablish their home and gain back their freedom.

With that in mind, the hero closed his eyes and let out his own last breath. 

 

His soldiers found him and the demon both dead on the floor,

But they knew that they had won.

That he, the mighty hero, kin of the gods, had won this fight.

His body was taken to a majestic cave of precious gems,

Stowed away with the natural  beauties 

The people of Ekkai, forever grateful for Srethos, built a statue in his honor

The image portraying him at the last step of the ten thousand steps.

They selected a new leader, one whom even the people of Deroene knew 

Would keep them in good hands. 

For had it not been for the might Srerthos,

their world would still be that of darkness,

and even if dead, his legend still lives on,

proving that it takes only one

to make a huge difference.