Part 1

Clad in thick boots and leather coat, a stocky man strode forward, pushing his way through the door, and entered the room in which the king of Tykin waited.

King Darius sat cockily in his throne, two stools full of empty wine jugs on either side of him.

General Brynd entered without hesitation and bowed stopping several paces away. Darius looked down at him, his cold stare made him want to shiver but he resisted the urge. In truth, Darius intimidated him greatly, which infuriated him to no measure. He lusted for power like that, able to stare at someone and make them cower. His ambitions had consumed him. Every fiber in his body wanted to see king Darius swing from a rope. His patience had paid off and his opportunity to rise in power and glory had finally come.

“As you know, Vulkira has fallen. Erik is hopefully dead and out of the way.” Darius pronounced. “My time has come to take Vulkira for myself and damn the consequences. Xerath will do nothing now that his brother-in-law is dead and his whore queen can do nothing to protect Vulkira.”

“Xer is not weak my lord.” Brynd swallowed in disgust every time he called him lord.

“Of course not! Xerath will be distracted by the thousands of refugees flocking to his wall, begging for entry and the queen is too busy moping in Calchester.” Darius declared. “We will seize this time and invade Vulkira while they are occupied.”

“What of our borders to the south. Surely Kligira will notice our lack of strength. They may take our split forces as a time to strike as well. It will weaken us to an attack from all sides.” Brynd reasoned.

In reality, he wanted to lead his men into Vulkira and take the capital swiftly and break his oath to Darius and finally become his own man. Taking orders from no one. He had been planning for this very occasion.

“Perhaps, if I were to take my men and take Vulkira in your name,” Brynd revealed his plan. “I will invade from Udra, where my men are stationed, and push straight to the heart and take Vlakias.”

Darius squinted his eyes in suspicion for a moment but dropped the look a second later. “Hmm. You are confident in taking Vlakias with seven hundred men?” Darius questioned him.

Inwardly he cursed the king for doubting his strength but he held his tongue. “I am, sire.” he paused, unsure whether to continue or not. “It will be swift and decisive. Xer will be too late to act before I will have conquered Vulkira.”

“Then Tykin will become the most powerful kingdom in Isulia!” Darius half laughed. “Xer has been a thorn at my side for too long. Xerath will regret the day he crossed me.”

“To your victory!” Brynd raised a fist. “To Tykin! I will defeat the Vulkirian armies in your name.”

Darius grinned greedily. Absorbed in his legacy, which would be his downfall. “To me!” he shouted, raising a glass of wine to himself.

Brynd nearly spit to the side, groveling at Darius’s feet was pure torture, in the morning he would finally be free of this man.

“I will make preparations my lord,” Brynd stated. “By your leave, I will set out in the morning for Udra.”

“Very well.” Darius giggled. “To me!” he laughed, clearly drunk.

Brynd turned on his heel and walked for the door. Happy to leave the drunk king to his pride.

Part 2

He would leave Akrov in the morning and head straight for his castle in Udra. All his planning and schemes were finally coming to fruition.

Walking down a dim hallway, Brynd made his way up to his chamber. Climbing several stairs, he arrived on his floor and continued stalking toward his room. Fewer torches left the stone in shadows and the walls seemed to creep inward slowly.

A strange and sinister feeling crept closer to him and Brynd whipped his head around to see what it was. He could feel eyes on him, like a dark presence lurking behind him.

Nothing was there.

The empty hallway revealed only stone, shadows flickering off the walls. His arms were covered in goosebumps and fear shot up his back. Reaching his door, Brynd felt rushed to enter the safety of his room. He could have sworn he saw shadows moving along the walls behind him but each glance only made him more paranoid.

Unbolting the door and pulling up the latch Brynd slipped into his room, sweat dripping down his back. He slammed the door shut behind him and leaned on the door. Feeling stupid for jumping at nothing, he latched the door calmly.

A dripping noise drew his attention. He turned around and saw it. Two candles lit his room but were immediately snuffed out. Shadows came to life off the walls and began to take shape. He tried to open his door to leave but a shadow shot out and slammed the door shut.

Yelling in shock, Brynd pulled his sword from his scabbard and swung at the figure but only swiped through it like mist.

“Who are you!” he yelled into the darkness.

Pools of black liquid poured from the stone walls and made a puddle at his feet. An instant later it began to rise from the floor, filling in the shadows that gave it a figure.

Piercing red eyes floated in front of him, its gaze fixed on him. It seemed to be smiling at him but Brynd couldn’t tell for sure. Whatever it was, it was terrifying.

Brynd was speechless and frozen in shock. Unable to move or do anything, he realized his body was paralyzed. Fear had set in, but Brynd was no stranger to fear, it was something else. It held him like a vise, holding him in place.

He looked down his body and felt cold black shadows loop around him like ropes but nothing was there.

Suddenly, a spiraling circle of shadows and sparking light engulfed the room. The figure fully formed in front of his eyes staying inside the circle. A throne sat behind the menacing figure. It stood on a black dusty planet. The surface looked bleak and dead, the horizon disappeared into darkness.

It stood, its full height reached past the roof, which also disappeared and turned into the image behind it. Standing over him, it bent its head down, menacing red eyes bore into his soul.

The demon’s figure cleared, coming out of its shadowy mask. It was tall and boney but muscular. Long sharp spikes protruded from dozens of points in his body. His face was narrow, protruding cheek and jawbones emphasizing his angular face. Two skeleton wings hung from his back, twitching, black leathery skin could be seen between each fold.

“What are you?” Brynd whispered in both shock and awe.

A deep demonic voice rumbled in his ears, making him cover the noise in fear of his head exploding.

“You lust for power.” the demonic voice said.

The shadowy black circle flowed around the room, following his movement. It was like a hanging mirror but that mirror was the demon standing before him. His eyes left Brynd and instant relief smacked him like a bat to the head. He breathed heavily, gulping in air. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath the entire time.

It turned, like a raven, shadows flowing like water and misty smoke shimmered before him. The demon sat on his throne, relaxing, and set its eyes on Brynd once more.

Two enormous horns protruded from his forehead, his wings flapped once, then folded behind him as he leaned back.

The throne he sat upon pulsed, revealing long vein-like streaks that disappeared into the dead earth below.

“I am Mulguran,” it said with a slow knowing voice. “I can provide you the power you oh so long for.” Brynd’s sword clattered to the ground upon hearing the demon’s voice.

“Be-begone demon.” Brynd choked. “I-I don’t want y-your power.”

The throne pulsed red again, “You will.” he smiled, revealing large white teeth. “Once you taste it, there will be no going back.”

Brynd fell to one knee as if in response, the presence of the demon was overwhelming. He felt like he was being crushed just from looking at him.

Mulguran chuckled evilly, tilting his head back and showing more teeth. “Humans are so weak.” his eyes flared, intensifying. “I could kill you without raising a finger.”

“NO!” Brynd yelped.

Mulguran smirked again. “No?” he teased, his voice still slow and menacing. “And why shouldn’t I?”

“I-I still h-have to win.” he breathed heavily in response.

“What is your greatest desire? What do you truly long for?” Mulguran hissed. “I… can give that to you. You need but ask.”

Brynd dropped to all fours and sweat-drenched his body. His mind was foggy and he could feel his consciousness slipping. One thought came to his mind, only one. It was his thought from childhood but had become twisted over the years.

“I… will be king.” Brynd gasped.

“You?” Mulguran leaned forward. “You are weak!” he hissed in disgust. “You are nothing!”

“Noooo!” Brynd screamed with all his might. “I WILL BE KING!”

Mulguran stood to his feet, the throne dimmed to black. The earth beneath his feet pulsed red like before. His bright red eyes drew closer to Brynd and he bent down, face to face with the human.

Brynd was enraged but still couldn’t move, his body unresponsive but he met Mulguran’s gaze. His body shook from the effort and he thought he would go blind staring into the demonic eyes. His mind was clear again. Brynd knew what he wanted.

“Good.” Mulguran said planely. “What would you give? What would you sacrifice for power? To be king of all Isulia?”

“Anything,” he whispered. “I’ll do anything.”

“Swear your loyalty to me, and I will give you all the power in the universe.” Mulguran cooed, his voice sweet and seductive. “Swear your life to me and your plans to betray Darius will become realized. You can take the throne for yourself. All you have to do is give in to me. And I will help you take the world for yourself.”

“My life?” Brynd questioned. Fear shooting down his back again. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to run away, but he couldn’t. He only stared into Mulguran’s eyes. The lust for power, the lust to be king, the lust be known. He couldn’t resist.

“Your life. For all the power you’ve desired since you were a child.” Mugluran’s eyes glowed brighter. “Will be yours.”

“My life… is yours.” Brynd spat out.

“Yes!” Mulguran hissed. “Your loyalty… is mine.”

“My loyalty… is yours.” Brynd obeyed.

“YES!” Mulguran’s body shook in demonic laughter. His body whipped up, his back arching backward, nearly touching the ground. Mulguran’s entire body, flashed red, pulsing veins engulfed him. Arms outstretched, his fingernails extended into claws and his wings spread to their full length and partially disappeared behind the mirror-like image.

Mulguran’s eyes were so bright, Brynd couldn’t follow them clearly. The demon whipped his head back down to Brynd’s ear. He moved so quickly his red eyes flowed behind him in an after image.

“I’ll give you a taste.” the demon whispered.

Boney black arms stuck straight out, he stood once more and placed one finger on his forearm. The demon suddenly stabbed his wrist with his claw and black liquid trickled out. It stopped an instant later and pooled around the wound. Mulguran tilted his wrist downward, above Brynd and one tiny drop fell.

It was sticky and felt odd, but Brynd only looked in awe, still paralyzed. More drops of the black liquid hit his forehead and cheek. He brought his head up and opened his mouth wide.

The black blood fell into his mouth and a surge of searing pain scorched his throat and he began to panic, clutching at his neck.

Brynd screamed in pain and clawed at his gaping mouth. “Stop! No!” he screamed.

He could feel it enter him, slowly being absorbed into his body. A surge of energy struck him as if hit in the head. Power. So much power.

“Don’t fail me… general.” Mulguran said menacingly. “When the time comes. I’ll show you what your new power can do.”

Brynd hunched over, nearly puking his guts out. His entire body screamed with pain but it abated as quickly as it came. The thought came back to him. It focused in his mind, one goal, one path consumed him completely.

“I will be king,” Brynd repeated over and over again.

Part 3

General Brynd jerked out of sleep and looked around his room. It was morning. He was drenched in sweat and his hands were trembling. The sun spilled through his window, blinding him momentarily.

“Just a dream,” he whispered aloud to himself.

His panic and fear quickly dissipated. Nightmares were common for him but nothing like that one. This one had been different. It had felt so real.

He slipped out of bed and walked over to his water bowl. He splashed water on his face and stared in his mirror. He looked pale and unwell but something caught his attention.

A black sliver shot across his eye and he stumbled backward, knocking the bowl of water to the ground. His mind began to fog and he felt drowsy. He clutched his head and steadied himself. Brynd quickly looked into the mirror again… but saw nothing. His mind was playing tricks on him. The nightmare still lingered in his memory.

A loud knock on the door broke him from his thoughts.

“General?” a man said, sounding worried.

“What!” Brynd yelled.

“Uh, um.” the man stuttered. “The men are waiting. Everything is prepared for our departure.”

“Leave me! I will be down shortly.” Brynd said, frustrated.

Brynd turned and once again looked into the mirror, “I will be king.” he told himself, then left the room.