As their flight was nearing its end, Demala could see what looked like a great fortress far off in the distance. It was on its own aisle not far off the coast, or at least that is how it looked to him. “What is that place, there?” he asked as he nodded in the direction of the fortress.

“That’s the old palace. It has not been used for over Six hundred years, since King Dragdani last sat on the throne.”

“And why has it not been used since?”

“The last King didn’t use it, and no one else can enter without the King’s permission.”

“When I was a boy, there was a tale told to all youngsters who loved hearing the old tales, even to this day some are told. But this particular tale told that King Dragdani would return in our hour of need,” said the Wizard meaningfully, as if remembering the tale had awakened the memories from his childhood. “It was also said that when the palace once again joined with the coast of the city, he would live there again and our entire world would finally be at peace.”

“Isn’t that something like the Second Prophecy?”

The Wizard suddenly looked offended. “No how could it be. The Prophecy tells of his heir coming, not him,” he snapped.

“I didn’t mean any offence. And I’m sorry if you took it as though I did,” said Demala apologetically, as the Tear-Fly touched down.

“That’s all right. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” said the Ves-guard shamefully. “It’s just that I’m one of the few that believe in the story. I mean, for us to have peace, I think it has to be true.”

They quickly climbed out of the Tear-Fly and walked up the steps to the city Hall entrance and were seen by most of the members of the Council of Wiz-Wit, as they had just adjourned from their meeting.

“That’s the Grand Wizard and the Supreme Witch standing together,” said the Ves-guard pointing to them. And before he could say or do anything, Demala ran forward to them.

“You must hurry,” he said urgently, “before it is too late. The town of Kuople is under attack.”

“A second attack?” asked Berlanin.

“Shall we summon the Ves-guards?” asked Galfead.

“Quickly,” said Oruealth fretfully

Ves-guards from all over the city assembled outside the City Hall, and against the protests of the Council Jaucal, and Oruealth went as well.

“Neither of you should go,” protested Berlanin.

“This is your time to get a little experience at running the city, my friend,” said Jaucal. “I would say that it would not be wise to pass up the opportunity. Anyway, are you going to try and stop us?”

Oruealth grinned, for she knew as all others did what the answer to the question was.

“Of course not, Grand Wizard,” said Berlanin.

They Phazed their way to the Witch town only a few seconds later, however, when they arrived, they found the inhabitants of the town dead.

“At least they put up a fight,” said one.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Yeah, but they still shouldn’t have had to fight alone,” said his friend beside him. And the first one nodded in agreement.

As they came to the Town Hall, they heard cheering and laughing. And there were the invaders. They were cheering and laughing because they had just killed two of the villagers, a Wicca and a young Warlock.

Consumed by anger, the Grand Wizard stepped out into the sunlight, his white beard glistening.

One of the Dark Wizards turned and met his gaze. He choked on the wine he had just downed.

“Who the heck are you?” asked the Dark Wizard as he wiped the last remainder of the spilt wine from his mouth and chin.

“One you missed,” said the old Wizard loudly and firmly, as to be heard by all.

The others stirred as the Supreme Witch and Ves-guards appeared.

“You dare to ask who I am,” said Jaucal furiously, “when you are the intruder. If you don’t know, then I will be clad to show you.” He raised his sceptre high and said, “What’s wrong? You were so brave in attacking the people of this town,” mocked Jaucal. “Or was that because you took them by surprise? Maybe your backbones aren’t as strong as you thought.”

The invaders advanced further, drawing out their wands. Their dark robes flowed in the wind that had suddenly come of the Grand Wizard’s will.

“You three take that side,” said the wine-soaked one.

The Grand Wizard put up his hand to those behind. “These are mine,” he said.

“So you have overcome the yellow streaks after all, and you think you can best me,” the old Wizard said, loudly addressing has enemies.

This fuelled the anger of his attackers, and bright lights of green, blue, red, and yellow flew toward the old Wizard. With his sceptre, the Grand Wizard swatted their spells away like puny flies.

As they got a closer look at the Sceptre, the Dark Wizards realized that this was not just any old Wizard Ves-guard, but the Grand Wizard himself.

The invaders ran back toward the building behind them. Some cried out while the others merely ran in pure fear.

“You should always finish what you start,” said Jaucal as he laughed at the sight of them. He took out his own wand waved it, and with shimmer of grey light, chains appeared in midair. They flew around the Dark Wizards who fell in a heap on the ground.

Then Oruealth stepped forward, her talisman placed on her hand. She waved her hand to the left, and the chained Wizards were thrown into the wall of the building next to them.

Shouting was heard from inside the Town Hall. More Wizards and some Lores and Goblins came running out.

“You don’t mind if we do our jobs, do you sir, madam?” said one of the Ves guards.

Jaucal and Oruealth laughed and the Supreme Witch said, “Round up the rest quickly.”

The Ves-guard nodded. “YOU HEARD!” he shouted. And with that, the light Wizards and Witches confronted their opposites.

The Lores and Goblins drew their weapons, although they would only attack as a last resort.

However, it was not long before some had fled and the rest were dead, dying, or in custody. Three of the Ves-guards lay dead, and five were wounded in the fight. One of the less wounded was the young Wizard, Jert, who flew to the City Hall with Demala. His arm was broken by a rather nasty curse, but he was lucky that it hit his arm and not a more vital area.

Those who were able searched the town from top to bottom and found that not one of the inhabitants still drew breath.

Jaucal stood leaning on his sceptre, looking and feeling fresher than he had in weeks. It seemed the excitement of facing those young Wizards had reminded him of his old Ves-guard days. Though he knew that then they would not have run away like children from a tempered parent. He also knew that he should take no pleasure in it, for he would rather not have felt the fresh feeling nor had the good memories at all if it meant that the innocents of this town young and old were alive and well.

Then a shadow came in front of him, and his daydream passed. Jert now stood in his line of sight.

“Sir, the town is now secure and has been checked. I’m sorry to say there are no survivors,” said the young Ves-guard.

“How is your arm?” asked the Grand Wizard looking at the sling the young Wizard was sporting.

“Still broken, I’m afraid.”

Jaucal grinned. “In that case I relieve you of your duty. Go back to Cayer-Huld and get yourself seen to.”

“But sir, there is still a lot to do here, and I don’t want to just go home while the rest have so much work to do.”

“But, my young friend, I have a job for you. I want you to take all of the wounded to the hospital and when healed and well, I want you to go to the City Hall and tell the deputy Grand Wizard all that has happened here. Please ask him to send a letter to the Wizard Delsani explaining it all, as well. I think that is certainly far more important and less depressing than what we will be doing here.”

“Yes, Grand Wizard.”

“Please call me Jaucal. All these ‘sirs’ and ‘Grand Wizards’ are making me feel so old,” laughed the old Wizard. “So do you except your new assignment?”

“Yes, of course, Grand - I mean…Jaucal,”

“Good, you may go as soon as you are ready.”