Prologue

Prologue


The soldiers rushed to the sound of war horns that echoed throughout the city of Tamara, capital of the Trasidar-kind. Trasidar soldiers rush outside the eastern walls to defend the city from an ancient foe, the Armedigors. The Imperial General, and heir to the Trasidar Throne, Prince Tamiron Lluch, rides on his taranos. Relative of the tamaraw, the taranos had majestic horns that signified only royals have the right to ride such a beast. Prince Tamiron wore a dark and heavy armor topped with a horned helmet. He rushed outside the gates to defeat the greatest army to stand before the imperial army. He bore the gauntlets of the Trasidars that was passed unto him by his father, held his head as he rode out into the ever drawing battle. The prince races towards the gates as sweat ran down his olive skin and the wind brushes wildly through his long, black hair. His green gem eyes fixated at the gates as it slowly opened for his arrival. There he saw them – the enemy that stared down on his beloved city.

“Prepare the spears in front,” the prince commanded, “Line up the cavalry to cover the flanks of each side, and prepare the archers just behind them. This battle could be bloodier than I have originally perceived,” he added in his slightly thick voice.

“Cover the flanks on both sides, every part of the formation must be secured and defendable, we cannot let them win or even gain the slightest of advantage,” he pointed out with his metal-covered arms.

“Take command of each side, the phalanx will be under my sole command and my command alone. Prepare the cavalry for a mighty charge.” He laid the final orders, preparing everything and placing everyone in their posts.

Seas of soldiers moved to formation as the prince commanded. The sight of the enemy army began to dawn on the soldiers. Slowly, the battlefield began to settle down and loomed in the east plains of Tamara. The minutes grew longer and longer while tension brewed between the defending army and the attacking army. The Prince raised his iron fist and shouted a war cry to whip his men back to mental shape.

“Soldiers of the Empire!” he bellowed. “We have been preparing for this day for years! Our fathers and our father’s fathers prepared for this very moment! This day will determine the survival of the Empire, the empire that not only my father built and raised from the ashes of the old war, but has been built by the loyal people of the Trasidar Empire!” The soldiers exploded chants of the Prince’s name, “This day, this dire day will dictate the future, not only of the empire, but also the future of our children and our children’s children! So are you with me?”

The soldiers roared into the air, the name of the Prince, the name of the king and the empire that is precious to them,

“Then prepare for glory! For the Trasidar Empire!”

The Armedigors broke their lines and charge on for the imperial army. The prince rushed towards the enemy along with his men ready to die for their fatherland. Thundering steps reverberated in the air as the two opposing forces neared head-on. The Prince let out a war cry and both his iron gloves enlarged and turned into mighty iron fists the size of a small shield. He jumped from his taranos and slammed the ground in front of him, rupturing the earth towards the enemy. The enemy stopped as they saw the cracking earth heading their direction. It caught them and exploded right from under, leaving behind a crater that destroyed the enemy line. The imperial army now had an opening.

The two opposing forces clashed and the deadly bloodbath started. Screams of pain and clanging of swords and spears, hurling arrows and the raging charge of horses filled the air, giving the Prince an impression that the battle was turning in their favor. Unfortunate to him, it was the enemy who was winning. The Prince jumped high into the air and slammed the ground once more, cracking the earth upon his landing. He signaled his cavalry to join the fray and run down the enemy. They charged into the enemy and rolled down the plain like thunder, parting a gap for the army to fill. The battle raged on and the Trasidars finally had the upper hand.

Dusk moved closer. The battle is almost over.

Out of nowhere, a bright red light flashed throughout the field momentarily blinding the soldiers. A soldier approached the Prince, who was now on his knees. The Prince suddenly screamed and attacked his remaining forces, destroying his imperial army. The soldiers were in shock and had completely lost morale. Some tried to flee the field while others still tried to reason with the Prince, only to pay with their life. The others try to escape as well, but it was no use as the Prince caught on each one. The Prince crippled the earth beneath their feet and killed to the last man.

With their own blood spilled upon their lands, the battle was lost and the sun sets behind the city.


Next Chapter: Chapter I: Melancholy