Ali walked long, confident steps. Urgent, lengthy strides, through the cold halls of his military base, his robes blowing behind him as he cut through the air. He was a young, long haired boy with a skin tone not unlike a dark gold. A man awaited him in the weapon storage room. Hundreds of firearms lined up on the walls, which Ali had bought personally with his own winnings. Ammo crates bigger than an his cot, filled to the brim with munitions. EMP rounds, penetration rounds, incendiary rounds, tracker rounds. Anything and everything his men would need to fight an army of thousands of men.

“Ali,” said Tafiq, standing in the munitions room, “You've been nominated for the trials.”

It was tradition for a newly elected ruler to select a challenger for the initiation ceremony. Few of them ever lost, but Lord Nihad had a particularly large ego, and chose a fighter which had been advised against by his lord minister.

“Is he aware of his odds against me?” asked Ali.

“He wouldn't challenge you if he wasn't. He believes in the chance of his winning more than yours.”

Ali had expected just as little from the small lord.

“Where is the ceremony to be held?”

“He awaits you in the town center.”

Tafiq signaled to Ali to follow him, led him back through the halls. Dark walls stretching longer than a man's curiosity would last, hiding behind them the war rooms.

“What are the terms?” Ali asked.

“Blades.” said Tafiq

“Ah.” said Ali. This will be easy.”

“He only challenges you because of your current status. He's an east Thonorian, he doesn't believe in the abilities of the guilds.”

“So he believes his ego will be stronger than me?”

“He believes the tales of your coming are false. But he is the final piece. The last step before the greatest victory in Ythani history.”

The two continued walking, before they reached the exit of the great halls. They entered the town plaza. A large open area, sandstone brick paths leading the way to the exact center of the town. A crowd stood around the circular platform the paths led to. In the center of the brick ring, was an opening filled with sand, where a man stood. Lord Nihad, ruler of Tholrir, and commander of the northern forces.

They stopped walking. Lord Nihad shouted from the center of the pit.

“I hear your breathing, boy!”

An opening in the crowd was created. Nihad turned to face Ali, who now stood still, looking down at the lord.

“Hello, Lord Nihad.” he said, coldly.

“The great liberator,” Nihad snapped, “as if we're to believe the tales scrawled onto fallen walls.”

Ali stared at the man, who looked so small to Ali.

“Your own followers do, my lord.” said Ali, with a disdain that could make a hardened man shiver. The words cut a silence into Nihad.

“Draw your blade.” the Lord commanded.

Ali unsheathed a long blade from its casing, slung over his chest. The blade was a dark northern steel, with old carvings etched along the blade. The razor edges came to a sharp point at the end of if. The handle was a dark wood, with metal accents engraved with sacred symbols. One for each of the 5 gods, which were mirrored on the opposite side of the hilt.

He stepped down into the sand pit. Holding his blade with a traditional grip. The two circled the radius of the ring, Ali closely examining every move the lord made. Carefully watching every twitch, waiting for him to move, counting down the seconds until his attack.

I own your ammunition, what would you be without me?Ali thought. They continued around the ring. Ali kept watching, when he saw a light twitch in Nihad's eye. Nihad moved his arm up, moving his blade toward Ali, before lunging. Ali threw himself onto his back, dodging the blade, while Nihad stumbled. Ali stood up quickly, turned around, and jabbed his blade into Nihad's leg, before pulling it down, and slicing it open.

Nihad knelt in the sand, grasping his wound. Ali lifted a handful of sand while he stood up. He covered Nihads mouth filling it with the lifted particles, then reach in. Ali pulled back, dragging the lord through the sand by his teeth. Nihad lay on his back, and Ali bent down, kneeling down onto the lords chest as he began to breathe the particles in his mouth. Ali leaned, holding his blade to his neck, while reaching with his left hand to hold the lords nose shut. Nihad squirmed, trying to break free from the weight, but could not move, as the sand was in his lungs now. He panicked, stabbed Ali's leg, but Ali didn't budge. Instead, he pressed the edge of the blade into Nihad's neck, and glided it across his skin, cutting deep into it. Blood flowed out of the cut, onto Nihad, and dripping onto the ground below. Absorbing into the sand.

Nihad gurgled and coughed. The blood entered his windpipe and filled his lungs. After a minute of thrashing and choking, he stopped struggling. Ali looked at what he had just done. He pulled the knife back, wiped it on Nihad's fabrics, slid it into it's leather sheathe, and stood up. Those who stood to witness the fight were silenced by the death of their lord. Could he be the one to bring us to freedom? The one whose story was told long ago, written on the tomb of the Great Lord?

Nihad lay still, defeated by dust on the ground. The crown began to cheer, their voices growing louder around Ali. Tafiq clapped, while Ali stood, looking at the body of the man who once ruled him. Ali no longer obeyed this man. He was not a mere weapons overseer, he was the ruler of his region. The man born to liberate his people from the grasp of an alien dictatorship. He could now guide his people to freedom.

•

A week after Ali was declared ruler of Tholrjr, he had begun planning. The great liberator had a job, and the other rulers were in the way of its completion. In order to liberate the north, he must rule it.

“We take TerJon first, and move south. We go as far as Thonr to take over the trilite mines. After which, the south will have to surrender, and we will free ourselves from Ma'atia.” said Ali, to his new Lord Minister, and other overseers in their meeting room.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The room was a large, underground, dimly lit sandstone room. Tan bricks stacked around them. A table stood between the men, around which the four of them sat. Ali, Lord Minister Tafiq, weapons overseer Muqtada, and military overseer Ahmad.

“How do you know the south will surrender?” asked Muqtada.

“With trilite distribution under our control, Ma'atia will not be supplied. The Gha'Luut will grow impatient, and Ma'atia will threaten the south. Their only choice is to bend the knee so we can supply them.” said Tafiq.

“But the whole point is to stop supplying them,” said Muqtada, confused, “Why continue to do so?”

“We wouldn't,” said Ali, “The trade overseer will not live. We'll set up a meeting to negotiate once we take the mines. He will supply Ma'atia enough to get us what we need to go off-world, then we will kill him, severing out connections to Ma'atia. We will take the south, and the Gha'Luut will deal with Ma'atia their way, while we find Isyria.”

A century of injustice finally wiped clean. The shackles of currency and trade no longer binding us to this world. We will finally be free. We will be saved. With the other ruling houses and trade overseer out of the way, Ythaa will start again, thought Tafiq.

“We need to go southeast before anything else. Ahmad will bring men to follow me, Muqtada will make sure they're armed. We' ll meet with warden of TerJon and his military overseer, who will obey, and give us access to his men and training oracles.”

“Why would he obey?” asked Ahmed.

“Because we'll kill him if he doesn't. And the death of the impeached oracle will be a good threat against him.”

The men around the table all leaned back into their seats, attempting to make sure what they heard was right.

“No one kills an oracle. These men are sacred. They extend their lives and dedicate them to teaching others.” argued Muqtada.

“These men are to be respected. They were here when your grandparents were born.” said Ahmad.

The men sat arguing, telling off Ali for even thinking to kill such a respected figure. Tafiq quieted them, letting Ali speak.

“You used to have a daughter in Terjon before you came here Muqtada, correct?” asked Ali.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“She was killed in an accident that took place at her schoolhouse.”

Muqtada went quiet. Ali could see the rage in him, building up more and more. Tafiq held Ali back, silently advising him to stop speaking.

“We believe it wasn't an accident, sir.” said Tafiq.

“Why wouldn't it be an accident?” Muqtada asked, trying not to yell. How dare they talk about my daughters passing, he thought.

“As you know, oracles are the longest living people in the country. This is because of consistent tranqroot use, which also affects the mind. He's over a century old, mind rotting from a drug he's used all his life. When a decision needs to be made, it's easy for one to fumble under such conditions.”

“Get to the fucking point.” said Muqtada, impatiently.

“He was bribed, sir. He was paid to look the other way. That's why he's richer than anyone in the region. He had forgotten reason, and in his age and mental state, greed took over. Kalaraja ordered the bombing of the schools to halt education in Ythaa. But the oracle never knew it would happen while the children were in the buildings.”

The men around the table sat silently. Muqtada sat in disbelief, before succumbing, and letting his vengeful feelings take over.

“He's mine.” he said, appalled, and letting his hatred for the vile Larys Kalaraja, and his paid oracle overcome him. “Do what you must, but when the time comes, it's my hand around his neck.”

Ali nodded in approval.

“Bring a drone, we'll send footage south as a warning.” instructed Ali to Muqtada, who nodded.

“After we get the oracles men, we will become the rightful rulers of TerJon, and we can move south to the mines.” said Ali.

“Taking the mines will be easy,” said Tafiq, “Although Thonor has a powerful leader, the mines are not technically under his jurisdiction, and are owned by the trade overseer of the southern alliance. We will plan further once we've taken TerJon, but we will arrive at the mines, and send a message to the trade overseer offering to work with him in exchange for equipment to travel off-world.” said Tafiq.

“So what do you need us for?” asked Ahmed.

“You will follow along with us to not only do your jobs as overseers, but to show authority. The trade overseer is a much more powerful man than I, but with four of us against one of him, we'll have a better chance of winning him over.”

“So we're there to threaten him?” asked Ahmed.

“If it comes to that, yes. But you're there to provide a sense of authority.” responded Ali, “If we bring the strongest men to meet with him, he may listen more, not because we're threatening, but because were introducing him to our power directly, and doing nothing to him in that time. If anything, we're trying to do the opposite of threaten by keeping our efforts open.”

“And if he doesn't comply?” asked Muqtada.

“We do nothing. We cannot change his mind, and I can understand the suspicion behind an enemy trying to ally so suddenly. So we will do nothing he's aware of. But we will continue to raid him, take the equipment we need, and when we're on the brink of success, we will invade. The overseer and his heirs will be killed, and we will hold the power of the country.”

“My lord, I've heard he plans to meet Larys in person to discuss trade expansion.” said Tafiq to Ali.

“Expansion?”asked Ali.

“He wants to make trade accessible to the north.”

“Well I'm certain Larys has more in his plans than giving us gifts. Can he not see this?”

“I believe Larys has more plans as well, but he cannot destroy us. Our country is the only source of trilite.”

“That's what I fear. He won't kill us, but he'll bleed us, deprive us of everything we have. It'll be like the old wars once again. Everything will go back to being just what we've fought against.”

“And with the Gha'Luut involved it would be even easier for him. Everyone knows tales of their soullessness.”

“Ma'atia's just the middle man, the Gha'Luut could obliterate us in a second if they needed, take out both of us. It could be a full invasion.” said Muqtada.

The collision of Zaurus 3-8 and Kroth would certainly be a sight. The Gha'luut were a terrifying race. Soulless, unforgiving, unrelenting, and didn't have a care in their world for the life of anything else, including their own kind. An entire world filled with duplicates of Larys Kalaraja, yet somehow, their insect-like appearance was even more vile looking.

“I believe that's all I needed to brief you on,” said Ali to the men as he stood up from his seat, “Our meeting is adjourned. If you have any questions, you may direct them to my Lord Minister. Until then, continue to do your work, and you will know when we're ready to advance.”

The men stood from the table, and said their goodbyes, before starting to the door. Ali and Tafiq waited in the room.

“My lord, Amun will leave shortly. There's no knowing when he'll be back, if at all. It's important that we act as soon as possible.” said Tafiq.

“I understand. We will leave the day after tomorrow. It's a long journey, and it's far too late to arrive in Thonor before Amun departs, but we can be there before he comes back, and already be ready to negotiate. Who will be taking over in his absence?” asked Ali.

“His son, Javier, will handle military, which as far as I know will not be used in the time he's away. His daughter Freja will take over trade and distribution.”

“If Amun doesn't return, we'll negotiate with the daughter. Until then, we must plant men in every region from here to Thonor and take out the oracle. We'll use a trainee as our own. Tell the overseers of our departure, have them prepare what we need.”

“Yes, my lord.”