Prologue

The Beginning 

The Land of Gallahan has a dark history, a tale of blood and conquest. It started in the Dead Teeth Mountains, a mountain range to the north of the kingdom, the summits of which are said to be unclimbable. A young man climbed in the rain, through the hail and the snow until he came to the pass that would lead down into the Kingdom of Gallahan. He had travelled farther than any of his people, except from the one who had told him the way. He was bloody and torn but it seemed worth it to him as he was half way there, he was sixteen years old, his skin was dark and his head was shaved. He wore ragged clothes with nothing but a knife and bow, he smiled and began his descent into the kingdom. He shivered not from the cold winds of the altitude but from his building excitement. His destiny was there in the distance all he had to do was find it. He would go all the way nothing would stop him in this quest.

“What’s the hold up?” Tregar called from the seat of his wagon at the back of his goods caravan, Tregar travelled with his wagons filled with goods from city to city selling his wares and buying more to sell in other cities. The fact that his caravan was filled with goods made him nervous when it was held up.  He nodded to one of his guards on horseback who rode forward to the front of the caravan, in the distance Tregar thought he could see the workers throwing something on the guards horse then he saw the rider turn the horse and ride back at full gallop when he pulled his horse up next to Tregar's wagon,

“This boy was in the middle of the road sir.” he said nodding down to his lap where an unconscious boy lay. Tregar looked down at the boy, he had dark tanned skin and he was bleeding from a gash on his head,

“Put him in the back and get the healers." Tregar ordered, "Did you see anyone else about?”

“There are two dead bodies, bandits by the look of them. It looked like the boy put up a hell of a fight but i found no weapon on him. There are tracks of another heading to the east.” the guard answered.

Suddenly the boys eyes shot open and he shouted out in a strange tongue that Tregar didn’t understand. He looked at his guard to see if he recognised the tongue but he looked as confused as Tregar did, the boy looked at their confused faces, then frowned and said in heavily accented king’s tongue, “Ver am I?”

”Found you on the king’s highway, west of Pinex city.” The guard said,

“Corinthia?” the boy asked groaning as he gently touched his wound,

“You’re in luck my boy.” Tregar said, “This is my caravan and we are bound for Corinthia, I am Tregar who are you?”

“Vawt is a caravan?” the boy asked sluggishly as he tried to remain conscious,

“We take goods from a city and sell them in another city. What is your name?” Tregar asked again,

“I am Shimla. Can you take me to Cori...inth..ia?” he asked passing out before Tregar could reply.

"Put him in the back of the wagon." Tregar grumbled. Shimla awoke once he had been bundled into the back of the wagon and heard Tregar talking,

“I don’t care! He wakes up and does some work or we leave him by the road! I’m not a charity.”

A dark shadow passed over Shimla’s face and his features held a malice that was not there but a moment ago. He lay back down and smiled again. In his native tongue he whispered,

“Nothing will stop me.”

Shimla pushed open the two large doors and walked into the dark chamber confidently. He looked around a large hall and saw seven men sitting round a large table, all were elderly and wearing robes, they looked up at the unexpected visitor as he stood staring at them.

“Who are you?” One asked, in a gruff annoyed voice, as if being disturbed was an insult.

“I am one who vants to learn.” Shimla replied, calmly and respectful.

The men smirked and another one stood and said, “Many wish to learn boy, but it’s not something to learn you must have power now I'm sorry…”

Shimla threw his hand out and all the lit torches flared and then the flames flew to his hand so all the torch flames formed a large ball of fire in Shimla’s hand he grimaced as he struggled to keep from burning his hand. The old men watched in silence each staring at the fire. One reached his hand out and the flame flowed to his hand like it was water he elegantly tossed the flames in the air and they flowed smoothly back to the torches.

“What is your name?” he asked,

“I am Shimla.”

“That’s a strange name, where are you from?”

“Beyond the VarVarden. The mountains to the north.”

“The Dead Teeth?”

Shimla smiled nodding as he absentmindedly adjusted the clothes he was wearing, that looked surprisingly like Tregar's outfit.

Shimla studied in the Golgotha for five years with the mage's learning how to harness his powers he even travelled around some of the west. Before long he realised his powers far outstripped his fellow students this led to their resentment, so he spent all his free time in the great library or badgering his elder with questions. Doran the elder, charged with the care and education of Shimla had become increasingly more worried, the boy was prone to terrible moods, when he was younger they were few and far between but as the years had passed his moods seemed to be mostly bad. When these moods left him he was a quiet respectful boy but when he was in a foul mood he argued with many elders and students alike. Doran became worried when Shimla had not been seen in three days and decided it was best if he sought him out. After a lengthy search he found Shimla in the deepest corner of the library where every inch was covered in dust, he was bent over reading an ancient scroll intently and next to him was another student who sat upright in a chair looking petrified, on an inkling Doran quietly and carefully reached out his senses to the student and realised a spell had him trapped to the chair and his mouth forced closed. Doran could see the hunger in Shimla’s eyes as he read. Doran looked at his apprentice and saw a different person from the boy he knew, his skin that used to be dark was getting paler by the day, and his features seemed sharper especially his brow and his ears. Suddenly Shimla leaned back and laughed, it was not the laugh of the boy who had come to the Galgorin all those years ago. Doran was saddened by this and sighed. Shimla suddenly jumped to his feet and spun around. A fireball erupted into life in his hand and with a flick of his wrists it flew like flaming bird into the shadows, it was deflected as Doran stepped into the light.

“I was unaware that my master had taken to lurking in shadows.” Shimla said coldly. The word master was filled with contempt.

“I was also unaware you had taken to trying to kill anyone who disturbed you.” Then when Shimla made no excuse for his actions Doran said, “Something has changed in you Shimla. What is it that consumes you?”

Shimla smiled moving slowly round the table to stand at the shoulder of the trapped student and said, “History just history, Doran. It has taken me four years to find the information in that scroll.” Doran noted the informal use of his name but ignored it. Shimla obviously did not consider Doran his master anymore.

“What information took so long searching? Could you not have asked me?” the old mage asked.

“You would not have told me if you knew at all which is doubtful.” Doran looked down at the scroll and frowned, “This is very dark magic Shimla…”

“If you say so, Doran” Shimla smiled,

“And why is our friend here?” Doran asked indicating the other student,

The magic requires a sacrifice…” Shimla said as suddenly Doran spun blazing lightning down on the spot where Shimla was standing a second before but he had spun around on the spot and disappeared the instant the lightning reached him. Doran turned and destroyed the trapping spell, “Get out of here!” the student ran for the open door but he was suddenly thrown back by invisible hands and sprawled on the floor.
"Shimla! Listen to me, please! The Drakn are not what you think they..." Doran called spinning around desperately searching for his protégé.

“You are but nothing to me now.” Was whispered in Doran’s ear from directly behind him. It was the last thing he ever heard. Doran was lifted in the air by an invisible force and slammed into the ceiling knocking him unconscious but he did not fall, Shimla was not looking at him but at the scroll on the table that had made Doran turn on him, his two hands were in the air magically holding Doran. Shimla smiled as he walked over to the student who struggled frantically on to get to his feet.

“One sacrifice is good…” he drew his hands apart, there was a wet sounding tearing noise and blood rained down on Shimla and the Student who screamed as Shimla released his magical hold and the two halves of Doran fell to the ground. He stared up into the cruel eyes of Shimla with his tear filled ones as Shimla said, “Two is better!”

The student screamed as Shimla tore him apart. Shimla smiled and turned and hurriedly he grabbed the parchments from the desk he had been studying at and fled, fled Corinthia and the rest of the kingdom as well.  Shimla disappeared back to the land beyond the mountains knowing it was the safest place to begin his plan. The mage’s sent mercenaries after him to avenge Doran but none were ever seen again.

Ten years later Shimla returned to the kingdom of Gallahan, almost unrecognisable as Shimla the apprentice. He had renamed himself Mor'draed the Drakn'heart King. His brow was low and sharper, his ears were now pointed like an elf of the old tales and his skin was an almost green colour. His eyes were the most striking difference the iris and the white of his eyes where now completely black, as if he had two coals instead of eyes. And together with the plaited beard now on his chin and his shaved head save the circle at his crown that was tied back and long he looked truly fearsome to behold. He rode under a black banner bearing the Drakn'heart at the head of an army of thirty thousand barbarian men from the land to the north called Dourgals. A monstrous war followed between the Drak’nheart and the Kingdom of Gallahan. The King of Gallahan Roland Gala sent the western armies against the invaders led by his brother Arter. Mordred's campaign into the kingdom lasted ten months killing ten thousand men (it would later come to be called the ten-fold war). Each time the king’s men marched against the Dourgals and looked as though they would win a battle, Mordred himself would enter the fray and use his powers to sweep away the soldiers of the west. He was a fearsome warrior and with his abilities he became deadly none who face Mordred survived. In the tenth month of the war Mor'draed’s men had reached the city of Pinex on the border of the west and east of Gallahan and Roland had no choice. He marched the eastern armies to join his brother Prince Arter who had command of the west. It was at this time The Galgorin came forward to the King with a plan, for they felt responsible for the situation as they had been responsible for Shimla’s training.

It was at this time Mor'draed reached the city of Pinex. They held siege for three weeks before breaching the wall. So angry was he that it had taken three weeks that he ordered the city destroyed, as his orders were being carried out the armies of the east and west arrived and charged, Roland at the lead. Roland rode a cavalry charge at the foot soldiers of Mor'draed. They broke through and the battle began. The king was knocked from his horse but fought gallantly. Then he saw Mor'draed drop from the black mountain stallion he rode. He was bare-chested and walking unafraid of injury, the reason was apparent as a kingdom man jumped at him with a downward slash. What Roland saw made his mouth drop, Armour erupted from the Drakn'heart king’s skin covering his chest and forearms he blocked the blow with his forearm and stabbed the soldier with one of the two black short swords to match his armour that hung from his hips. It was at this time King Roland II fell, so amazed by Mor'draed was he that a young Dourgal thrust forward with his scimitar and cut down the King. As Mor'draed walked through the battle dealing death by blade and by curse he found Baal leader of the Galgorin in front of him He was a brave man, he knew that facing Mor'draed was a death sentence.

“Hail Shimla that was.”

Mor'draed turned to face the leader of the Galgorin

“Baal…” Mor'draed sneered closing his eyes and sending out his senses, “Why are there ten mage's circling me? Scared to face me alone Baal? Eleven mage's against one?”

“We took you in! We taught you…”

“No you did not. My teacher taught me all my magic before any of you were born! He set my feet on this path not you!”

“You are a monster!” another mage called,

“Nay I’m a god!”  He shrieked, “You will all bow to me as it was before it shall be again! None of you are able to defeat me! ”

“No we can’t… but together… NOW!” they all cast their spells at the same time the light was so bright as flame, lightning and pure energy surged at Mor'draed that the fighting stopped as each fighter was blinded, but when it cleared Mor'draed was standing up laughing so cold and loud everyone on the battlefield knew fear.

“My turn.” He growled,

“No it isn’t.” Baal said as a white light surrounded him, as it did with the other mages, Mor'draed cast a spell but it failed. And another and another.

“What is happening?!” Mor'draed shrieked,

"So arrogant Shimla, you thought we were no threat! You never sensed them did you?" Baal screamed at him as the light encasing each mage grew stronger. "Every mage of the Galgorin are here! They lend us their power!"

"NO! You can’t defeat me! You are nothing!"

“You are wrong. We are something, Shimla, we are your cage. We are your prison we take you to the depths! You are done Mor'draed!”

Mor'draed lunged at them but his swords disappeared as they closed on him he screamed as his armour disappeared also, suddenly there was a blast so strong many fighters were blown off their feet. Mor'draed and the other mages were gone. The kingdom men cheered and filled with renewed hope they attacked they Dourgals fiercely. Without Mor'draed’s magic the kingdom men’s superior training easily drove their invaders back. Some of the army fled Pinex as soon as Mordred fell, the others where drove back until they broke and retreated. The kings Eldest son passed a law that any Dourgal found in the kingdom from that day forward was to be hunted and killed lest they cause more mischief in the kingdom. The Galgorin developed a military branch of its mage's called the Insindium which sole responsibility was to hunt and kill any dark mage's. Things would be very different in the kingdom…

*                                             *                                            *