Hrelg's began to beat faster as he took the first few steps up the cold, snow-covered steps of Al-Ri'llagh. The great fortress had been erected hundreds of years ago, ordered by the great king of the age himself, his name now long forgotten. While his name was lost in the great chasm of history, the great fortress held. At the time, no one had understood the construction of the place. It's placing was horrible, positioned to overlook multiple towns from the top of a hill. Even so, they were many miles away, barely visible on the horizon. By now, two of the three were abandoned, and one had grown to be the great merchant city of Rellak. The gates, lifted greatly off the ground and only reachable by a flight of stairs, were constructed of the strongest oak, and the stones that surrounded it were enchanted by the greatest mages of the age.
Not only would the castle never be destroyed, but it would never need to be sieged. There was not any reason to siege the castle. It protected nothing of value, the only resources in the area being flocks of birds. Even they came and went as they pleased. Because of this, it was abandoned by the armies after the death of the king who constructed it. It wasn't long before it was taken by bandits, thugs, and demon worshipers, all killing each other to make it their home. The very place was the scene of more death and evil than any place in the world. There were tales of groups taking it, and being found later, ripped apart or burnt to ashes. Just rumors, Hrelg thought.
The gates were not only open, but there was a great hole in the middle. It was as if someone had sent fireball after fireball to break through the gate, as the rest of the gate was burnt and blackened. Stepping through the gateway, Hrelg put his hand to the hilt of his sword. Once through, he had a view of the courtyard. Empty, save for a few bushes and a few ripped apart sacks and barrels. The place had been looted, it was inevitable. Thousands of years tend to have an impact on spells, no matter how strong they are. The greatest mages couldn't place an enchantment that would last thousands of years, could they?
Then something caught Hrelg's eye. A slight movement, at the top of the keep. Not much, but he was sure that it happened. It was there, then it was not. Shaking a leg, Hrelg ran to the entrance of the keep. This door was entirely blown off of the doorway, not to be found. The steps were stone as well as the rest of the fortress, with many holes and craters on the way up. It wasn't exactly a large keep, but it seemed much more grand from the outside. In here it was cramped, things placed horribly. It was as if the bandits that had taken over decided to move everything and did a horrible job of it. Surprisingly, nothing in here was destroyed, and fine pots and artifacts were placed on top of shelves and tables.
Hrelg decided that it was time to ascent the steps, and see what had moved up there. Drawing his sword, and readying a dagger in his off hand, he went up. Stepping in the occasional hole or crater became more of a problem as he ascended, as they became deeper and increased in number. It came to the point where he had to jump to cross a gap, and nearly dropped his blade. A deadly leap it was, he would have easily fallen to his death. Those were the final few steps on the staircase, and he walked up onto the roof, sword drawn.
No one was there. There was a piece of ripped cloth waving in the wind, held down by a rock. That was when he was it. The walls were gone. There was no courtyard. The ground itself, no longer there. He looked up. The clouds were black, the sky red. "Is this the end?" he thought out loud. Then something surprised him even more than the fact that he was on a floating keep.
"Do you think that this is the end?" a voice called out behind him. Hrelg whipped around quickly, sword in front and ready to attack. There was a man in blue robes, a youth. His robes were slightly too large, and Hrelg would have laughed if the situation would have been different. Hrelg stared at the man, and the youth laughed. He walked forward, putting his hands up to Hrelg.
"Stay back." Hrelg warned. Stabbing at the air with his sword. The youth stopped. "Who are you, where are we? Why am I here?" Hrelg asked, not knowing if he would get an answer or not.
The youth turned his head slightly to the side, and flashed a smile. "Your questions, you think that you deserve to ask them? No, no. You wandered onto my lands. Why have you come?" he asked, still grinning. Then Hrelg understood, or so he believed. This must be an ambitious wizard, taking the castle for himself. Hrelg understood enough about Al-Ri'llagh to know that it was a bandit headquarters. He must be here to take the items off of wanderers that dare enter the fortress.
Hrelg caught the man off guard. Running forward, he ran his sword through the man's stomach. He looked directly into the man's eyes, as he always did with his enemies. He liked to see their lives flash before their eyes. That did not happen with this man. He looked right back at Hrelg, no expression on his face. He stared for a moment, and he smiled. He waved his hand over the sword, and it disappeared. Hrelg backed up, now afraid. He readied his knife, and threw it at the man. It struck him directly in the neck, and he pulled it right out. Throwing it off of the side of the roof, it descended into nothingness.
"Who are you?" Hrelg screamed, a tear going down his face. He went down on two knees. The wizard walked forward, no longer smiling. He stopped just in front of Hrelg.
"I am the Great King who built this castle. All men who think to take my castle have failed. Cowards and thieves, mostly. Which are you?" the youth said. Hrelg looked down at himself, in tears and on his knees. He didn't have the chance to look up, as his head was clean off at that point.
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Topic: Al-Ri'llagh (Short Story) (Read 861 times)