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V1 - Chapter 43: Rise to Arms

Two days had passed, and the dark voice had become more and more difficult to silence. It wasn’t until the morning after his surprise coronation that he realized he had somehow lost his Amulet. He wasted a day avoiding John while he searched for it, but without success.

John went into an absolute panic, and dispatched soldiers to search the tunnels throughout the night. At the break of dawn, he sent more search parties to scour the mountainside. By noon, the search had come up fruitless.

“Look at me,” John insisted as they traveled down the path.

Allan raised his sagging head. John’s eyes bore into his, his face a mask of disquietude.

“The Leviathan has clouded your mind.” John sighed heavily. “I cannot read your memories.”

“I can’t bear this pain. It’s too much!”

“You’re using your Amulet as a crutch,” John said, not unkindly. “You have to learn how to silence your mind without it.”

“Is this one of your stupid tests? Are you hiding it from me?!”

“That’s the Leviathan talking. He’s making you paranoid. Tell me again where you last saw the Amulet.”

Allan shook his head, wincing from the pain the slight movement caused. “I don’t remember.”

John grabbed him by his shoulders. “Try harder!”

Allan shoved him away. “I can’t!”

A silver glow began to seep from Allan’s eyes as his anxiety mounted.

“You must remain calm.” John said, adopting a soothing tone. “Your powers are still unstable.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Allan’s silver aura erupted with an incinerating blast of heat.

John’s own aura had engulfed him in protection, but he had been knocked to the ground by the force of the blow. A large circle of charred earth surrounded them, including several piles of ash that only moments ago had been fully grown trees.

John stood, his lips curled into a frown. “Calm down.”

Allan nodded, eyes wide with shock, and took several deep breaths.

“You have to learn how to control your emotions, or you’re never going to be an effective leader to these people.”

“But I don’t want to be their leader!” Allan whined.

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“Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do for the greater good,” John chastised him. “These people need you.”

“What about my needs?” Allan huffed. “The whole reason why I agreed to follow you here was so that we could get reinforcements to save Lily!”

“These people are in no condition to go to war. Have you seen them? They are a downtrodden people who have witnessed horrible things in their lifetimes. We cannot expect them to fight your battle.”

“Then why are we wasting our time here?”

“These people have been praying for a miracle. You should have seen the way they looked at me when I woke up from your last emotional episode. They cried tears of joy when I told them about you.”

“What’s so special about me?”

“You are the spark of hope that they have been praying for.”

An Elder from the colony approached and bowed before them. He stared, dumbfounded, at the charred dirt at their feet.

“Target practice.” John said, passing it off casually, “How can we help you?”

“Your Majesties,” the Elder said, “a group of villagers from the north hath arrived. They doth look disheveled and forlorn, and one of their Elders wishes to speak with thee.”

“Take us to him.”

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The throne room was filled to capacity. It seemed the entire colony had assembled to hear news from the outside world.

Upon the throne sat the crown that Allan still refused to wear. He felt unfit to be crowned as a king of these people. They had just met him, and yet they were already showering him with praise and glory, worshiping him as if he were a god. The whole scenario was ludicrous.

I have to get out of here. I have to save Lily.

A man then greeted them with a brief bow.

“I am Adonai. I doth bring word from the Village of Udom.” His voice cracked with despair. “My companions and I hath traveled hither with heavy hearts. Yea, our village wast destroyed and our women and children hath been massacred.”

Terrified murmurs swept through the room.

John’s mouth fell open in shock. “Who did this?”

“Yea, ‘twas Tamerlane and his Creed of Nephilim.”

Allan exchanged looks of alarm with John.

“I doth come to seek justice.” Adonai said. “My wife and my sons hath been killed in this genocide!”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” John said. “What can we do to help you?”

“My daughter wast carried captive to the Great City as tribute to the priests of Tamerlane. Many of our children hath been taken as slaves to serve Tamerlane and his wicked priests.”

“I’m so sorry...”

“My daughter is all I hath left.” Tears streamed down his cheeks. “I must find her. Will thou help me in my quest?”

Allan had remained silent up to this point. The dark voice screamed in the back of his mind.

Crown thyself, and rally thy people!

Allan stared at the crown with the same distaste as he would at the stack of securities arbitration claims piled up on his desk at the law firm. Had he been given a choice, he would have preferred to be facing that mountain of paperwork right now. The idea of taking upon himself the responsibility of an entire kingdom was overwhelming, but he found the dark voice’s offer tempting.

“Yes, we will help you in your quest.” Allan spoke up.

John shook his head. “We are ill equipped.”

Allan picked up the crown, ignoring him. A hush fell upon the people as he carefully placed it on his own head. He then unsheathed Excalibur, causing the jewels on the hilt to glow again. A powerful beam of light shot toward the ceiling.

“Prepare the men for battle!” he yelled. “We will depart immediately!”

Everyone in the room erupted in cheers. Everyone except John.

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