“pant… pant… to think the Great Magistrate Maximus would be betrayed and killed by his own allies. What a disgrace. All of this death and it’ll still never amount as revenge for taking her from me.”
In what used to be beautiful plains was now battle-scarred land. Covered in patches of burnt ground, human ice sculptures, and patches utterly devoid of life. The land was covered in bodies ranging from burnt, frozen, fried, melted, or turned to dust. Laying in the center of all this destruction was a man. Within a hundred feet circle of around him was nothing but barren land. Outside of that circle though, bodies littered the ground numbering in the tens of thousands. Not a sound could be heard on this desolate battleground. Eerily quiet with the smell in the air being a mixture of all the different types of destruction. The man was glaring at the sky with unwillingness and rage in his eyes. Every few seconds the man’s limbs would twitch from him trying to put strength into them. Yet, no how much he tried he couldn’t get his body to rise once. The man knew he was dying but refused to accept it.
Having a head full of blonde hair that flowed like silk now matted in dirt and blood couldn’t take away from the man’s beauty; that was so terrifying men and women alike fell in love at first sight. His face now covered with cuts and bruises that could not detract from the man’s beauty. The man’s body was covered in wounds from head to toe. With two arrows in his chest puncturing the same lung. Two spears were sticking out from his stomach not including the ones he already pulled out in his rampage. One stabbed into his stomach while the went straight through his liver. A dagger and sword both stabbed into his back. His entire left arm laying on the ground gripping a leather tome. Blood pool rapidly expanding from where his arm was separated at the shoulder. The leather tome covered in dancing magical runes that makes it difficult on deducing where it starts and ends. Lying next to his now broken right hand with his fingers pointing in different directions is a broken enchanted quarterstaff. The staff was his pride and lifelong weapon that accompanied him through countless adventures. His once magnificent black battlemage robes were now in tatters from countless minor wounds done when his magic ran out.
Walking up to the man were three individuals each appearing more tired than the last. Two men and one woman approached him still slightly on guard. Ready for any sort of spell that might come flying their way.
The man leading the group was a middle-aged man wearing what one can assumed used to be enchanted full plate armor that now looked like scrap metal. The man was holding a halberd. 6 ft 3inches tall that seemed to be radiating with magical energy. He wasn’t wearing his helmet though was probably lost at some point in the fight. A red mane of hair covered in dirt and blood made his hair glisten a more sinister red. With eyes full of sadness and face full of resolution the man walked towards the man he knew as his dear friend.
The other man wore dirt covered ornate chainmail armor that was decorated more for show then effectiveness. Donning no weapons but holding his left arm that was clearly facing a way it shouldn’t. Standing at 7 ft tall a red dragonkin with a dragon like head, body covered in scales with eyes that looked at the downed man in contempt and fear while cradling his broken arm. The man walked with small steps to try and not agitate the pain in his arm even more.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
The woman covered in once pristine priests’ robes, now covered in blood stains and dirt. Standing at 5ft 11inches with head of blue hair with streaks of silver, pointed ears, sleek body, and webbed fingers. She walked alongside the man in the lead glancing at him every now and then. Her eyes shifted between pity and fear while glancing at the man on the ground. Then worry and affection for the man leading the group.
The leading man stopped at the man’s body and sighed “Max, have you come to your senses while waiting for death’s embrace old friend?”
Max stopped looking at the sky and focused on the red-haired man who had a hand in his lover’s demise. “I never lost my senses it was you, and the Council who took her from me! So, don’t try and give me that bullshit close friend attitude. We were close friends once Andrew but, that was before you guys decided to take her from me without me knowing.”
Andrew’s expression saddened even though he already expected as much. “So, the curse still remains even on death’s door. I was hoping I could have one last conversation but, guess it is simply not meant to be. Then do you have anything you wish to say before you die?” His hand clenching his halberd tighter at the mention of the word ‘Die”.
The dragonkin walks forward then reaches down and pries the leather tome out of Max’s left hand. The dragonkin chuckles out loud, “The Council can use this to further their understanding of magic and spells. Since a certain someone didn’t want to spread their knowledge to rest of the world, Mage. Don’t worry I’ll take good care of your book after you die.” His voice radiating contempt and disdain while walking away waving the book the in air.
Glaring daggers at the dragonkin, Max shifts his sight onto the book saying, “Go home and stay there until my return.” A rune on the book flashes before blinking out of sight. Max grins smugly at the dragon kin. “There is a reason I refuse to hand my magic over to the Council but, you are more then welcome to break into my temple to take it. Oh, I encourage you to try General Balmon.”
General Balmon clenches his fist then turns around with rage in his eyes storming towards Max before he is stopped by a halberd resting on his chest.
Andrew withdraws his weapon saying, “Stop Balmon, we both knew that it’s next to impossible to take a book from Max; so no reason to get mad when you knew how it would already turn out.”
Glaring hatefully toward Max before switching to a smug smile while looking down upon him before saying, “Doesn’t matter the all-powerful Magistrate Maximus has been reduced to a mere mad dog that needed to be cut down. Just like the animal he always was. Him and his demon bitch of a wife can now die in peace knowing we won.”
“BALMON we all know that we never saw or touched Max’s wife yet, you think claiming she is dead to a dying man will boost your ego. Do you have so little pride?” Andrew berates him knowing how petty this general can be. Balmon snorts with little puffs of fire shoot out his nostrils while opting to remain silent.
Max starts cackling with a crazed look saying, “Fine, Andrew. You want to know what my last words are? I shall say them now! I’ll be back and next time you won’t stop me! As many times as it takes I shall keep coming back until this world burns for taking Mara from me!” declares with his vision slowly starts descending into darkness.
He closes his eyes then reaches out with his broken right hand into the air with a couple tears going down his face. With his breaths getting fainter before the last breath escapes his lips and his hand falling limp to the ground a single thought goes through his head, ‘I’ll burn the world for you Mara, just wait’.