THE FIFTH ELEMENT: Book 1: Chapter 3

(Note: This is already chapter 3 of Book 1: (Guardian). Previous chapters will be seen HERE)

Fortitude

Having long, straight, brown hair and deep pine - green eyes, Zephyr, similar to her master, was also quite unique in comparison to the other denizens of Rhine. She was wearing a plain white blouse and a long brown skirt - just as of a normal lady. She also had a brown muffler rested on her shoulders. Her hands were in front of her, overlapping the right by the left. Her kind of walking was very conservative. She had halcyon steps, which made her quite a lady. She was quiet, and her eyes, although very serene, were focused only at front of her. She never turned her head. From her simple appearance and from her noble attitude, we can conclude that Zephyr was a fine lady - a fine Familiar.

The sun was rising high when they have returned to the inn where they were once before. The inn was a building of two stories. It was poorly painted and was dirty. The door was flimsy and some window glasses were already broken. Vanguard, Charles’ large wolf, was found inside the stables. When they came inside, the scene was considerably different from what most of us thought of it. The interior was sanitary, and the walls were well - painted. They headed upstairs. Some of the rooms were occupied; some were empty. After entering the room, they sat on the clean chairs inside. We don't know why they are here, but we do know that they were about to leave tomorrow morning. They just stayed here for the night.

Like the conversation before, the conversation here was commenced again by Charles. After sitting down for a while, he began to stand up.

“John, Zephyr,” he spoke in a serious manner.

John’s attention was quickly caught, knowing that his comical friend has gone grave. Zephyr just stared at him. Charles continued:

“I’ll be leaving you two for a while. I’m just going somewhere.”

“Where are you going?” John asked in reply.

“That’s the thing I can’t tell you. And by the way, I guess I’ll take about several hours before I return. So you must take care of yourselves. John, good luck!” he answered with a jest, thinking that he can obliterate the curiosity of his companion.

And then he left after gently and coldly closing the door. He thought he succeeded, he thought wrong.

John, without being surprised or embarrassed about his companion’s joke, was quite puzzled. What will he do? Charles rode with Vanguard and went away, away from the others, away from the town.

After a while riding on Vanguard, he finally stopped and dismantled from his Familiar. His typical, radiant beam was turned into a miserable frown. A shade of despair and grief welcomed him. What did he saw? Why did he went there?

He was in the middle of a graveyard. Tombstones around him stood like a mourning society. The sky darkened, signaling an incoming tempest. He walked forward to a distinct direction. After a few moments, he now found himself in front of a special gravestone. There was something written in the stone: “Mr. and Mrs. Gaea”. These were the names that were fruitfully seeded inside Charles’ thoughts. These were the names of his parents.

He knelt down as a knight genuflecting in front of his king. He wanted to stand up, but his heart resisted. Like his comrade, Charles also had a past of distress and despair. He had a reminiscence of his melancholy, the reason why his parents were no longer by his side. He closed his eyes, and tears began to tumble out from them.

From the darkness he saw a village, and it wasn’t any village – it was his village. The village was burning severely. The ambiance was cruel and red, and no one can see even a solitary star in the dreadful night, for they were shelled by the dark smoke. There were children screaming and wives weeping. It was a portrait of an impended doom.

Outside their house, Charles saw himself seventeen years younger, together with his parents. It was his eight birthday when his father mounted him to Vanguard. Although Charles was quite youthful, Vanguard’s age didn’t seem to be altered. Charles’ mother was beside her husband and was very worried, not for herself nor to her spouse, but for her son. Charles’ father spoke, as if he was speaking to Vanguard:

“Take our son to the Talon Family. You know where they are. Now, go!”

Vanguard galloped, carrying the innocent Charles at his back. The cause of the tragedy was unknown to him. His mind was filled with anxiety and confusion, for he was very young to experience such catastrophe. All he was able to do was to look back to the village, and to his parents, saying a silent farewell to them. The view of the site was going into an abyss of darkness and hatred when it suddenly halted. It stopped.

Charles’ nostalgia was disturbed. He heard two pairs of footsteps in the grass.

He saw John and Zephyr at his back.

“It’s going to rain hard. Let’s go.”

“How did you get here? How did you find me? Why....”

“We’ve been together for seventeen years. I already knew what you’re thinking back then, Charles Gaea.”

Charles, with his deluged face being washed by the drizzle, stood up straight and turned to them. With a sudden change of heart, he uttered:

“So, you did nothing to Zephyr huh? You’re such an absurd idiot, John Talon.”

John’s eyes shrank and his face turned impassive again. It was his special gesture. But inside of him, he was somewhat glad that they, perhaps he, had a friend such as Charles.

Charles was back to normal.

To be continued...

The Lone Eagle

Lonely traveling across the sky
Omniscient, the world hears its cry
No time's left from its endless searching
Endless, it is; searching for something

Even eyes of an aven can't see
Amidst plains, forests and all of seas
Greatly longing for a special one
Lore in the mind, to her, never gone
Empty - hearted, his flight's never done

Dominaria's Triarch

Dominaria erodes with each passing gust,
And three kingdoms, united, will fight to the last
These nations must assail thoroughly and fast,
Before the invaders convert them to dust

Korlis, the kingdom of prayer and holiness,
is well - known for its military uselessness
Their quote: "Where metal is tainted and wood's scarce,
we are best armed by faith"; that's their cry in wars

Icatia, the kingdom of endless knights,
that are pure of combat and sinew and might,
but because there's no God, they are in dim light
They have lives in darkness; they have days like nights

The last of the triarch: Kingdom Benalia
They do not have the might as of Icatia,
nor the faithfulness as of Kingdom Korlis,
but they still have both of them; balanced, that is

The day has come, the Phyrexian Scourge descends
Devouring through towns, chanting them their ends
Icatia stroke hard, but they have fallen
Korlis didn't fought, they all have rotten

But Benalia stood still, swept all of Phyrexia,
and became the victor of all Dominaria

What He's Fighting For

There was once a man who’s standing still
He saw his family – dead from a kill
With nothing behind, he joined the war,
Hoping to see the suspect afar

He packed his knives, his best obsessions
Also the steel toys, his kids’ possessions
He melted them to have round pellets
Loaded them in his vengeful muskets

So the war blew, he’s on a warpath
He gazed the man with his utmost wrath
He hurled his knives, his raged aim has failed
Next come the pellets, just didn’t nailed!

Emptily, he plucked the flagpole on his right
He cleared his mind, locked the knave in sight
“Forget your vengeance”, he stood on his feet
He tossed the pole; at last, it’s a hit!

After few hours, the war has ended
This soldier was found, reclining dead
Wearing a smile in his deepest core
He finally found what he’s fighting for

Run Like the Wind

The clock is spinning fast; the world’s on a rush
You are doomed to do all things on a single hush
To be able to defeat this greatest fiend,
Run as fast as you can, but run like the wind

The wind is brisk, and its strike is very quick,
But it’s stoic and calm; doesn’t have to be sick
If it touches your face with its cool embrace,
You would say: “Oh, I could be on the same pace!”

Always remember, the wind is our guide
Be swift and tranquil; you’re on the right side
Don’t let problems make your life intervened
Run as fast as you can, and run like the wind

Faith

Dominaria – once a land of glory and greatness, now only a land of waste and tears. This is because of the invasion of an army called the Phyrexian Scourge. After devastating the lands, the Scourge has conquered most of Dominaria to consume on the few remains. But hopefully, three kingdoms are still standing against the invaders, hoping that something, or perhaps someone, will come to save all of Dominaria. These kingdoms were Kingdom Icatia, Korlis, and Benalia. They faithfully believed that a king from either one of the ‘Three Kingdoms’ will lead them towards victory.

And the prophecy has finally come true. After being crowned as the new king of Benalia, the witty King Darien IV has immediately decided to vanquish the Phyrexian Scourge once and for all. One day, a Benalian scout came to the king and said: “My King, I've journeyed across Dominaria. Phyrexians are everywhere. Plague is everywhere. There's no place left to hide. They are about to attack us!”. “To arms, then! It leaves us no choice but to prepare as quickly and as keen as we can,” King Darien replied. “But first, let’s go forth and unite with the other Kingdoms. Our victory must come from all of Dominaria, or it will not come.”

And so the king, with few of his men, went to the Flagstones of Trokair, a legendary land known as a gathering place of past kings. There, he met the other kings – King Thelon of Icatia and King Tavalus of Korlis. After discussing the Benalian King’s plan, Thelon boisterously suggested: “Why would we have to plan for the attack?! Domiaria erodes with each passing gust. They’re dying left and right! We should strike as fast as we can!” But Tavalus suddenly and hopelessly interrupted: "Your words did not come from . . . now. They reflect a sky no longer ours and gleam with hope that does not exist. It is only a waste of time. What could a clerical kingdom like Korlis do against an overwhelming mass of monsters? We must accept defeat.” The Icatian King was about to draw his blade as well as the Korlisian King is about to draw his staff when Darien halted the two from having a fight. After breathing deeply of disappointment, Darien spoke: "Remember this, my fellow kings: The hermit dies. The outcast dies. The lone wolf dies. Only those who stick together survive this world. We admit that every kingdom has its own weaknesses, but if we band together, we can fill out those weaknesses and we can be able to defeat our enemies!” The other kings drew back and nodded, signaling their understanding to the Benalian King. And so all Dominarians agreed on one thing: they would not go down without a fight.

They have come up with a plan. Icatia, being a master of cavalry and combat, will hold up the Phyrexian attack for a moment. A survivor said: "Valiant Icatia was the last of the Three Kingdoms to fall. Its faithful soldiers defended their cities to the very end." They also had this motto that king Thelon created himself: “Never surrender”, which was carved in every Icatian wall. But despite its combat mastery, it cannot hold the Scourge forever. So Korlis, being adept in creating spells and magic, will cast a massive and devastating sorcery, namely “The Wrath of God” that will sweep all of Phyrexia. But this kind of magic will take a lot of time before it is completed, so they faithfully hope that The Wrath of God will be completed before the Icatian defense falls, as King Tavalus said: "Where metal is tainted and wood is scarce, we are best armed by faith." In the far lands, the tricky Benalians, lead by their King Darien, were preparing for a flank from the Phyrexian assault. King Darien said: "This is how wars are won—not with armies of soldiers but with a single knife blade, artfully placed." He did not dream of defeating the invaders by a single, well – planned attack. He is just hoping that he can somehow weaken the invaders that will attack Icatia and Korlis. All of these kingdoms were hoping that their strength in unity and their faith will grant them their victory.

And so the war blew throughout all of Dominaria. An endless march of bloodthirsty ‘beings’ was heard by all of the villagers that took refuge in hidden, underground homes. After being seen by a watcher, he shouted: “The call came, spell-borne through mortar and stone to the ear of every soldier!. The call came, and the advantage was ours!" The Icatians were already prepared before the Scourge had come. Different anthems were sung, as an elder said: "To those who can hear it, a battle song brings power as swift as sunlight and as enduring as the deep roots of the forest." Different battle cries were shouted. Different weapons were raised. But there was only one goal in the hearts of the warriors in each side: to win against the enemy. And then time suddenly stopped. The anthems stopped. Everything stopped, until King Thelon cried: “Charge!” All of his men shouted and charged, forever listening to the Glorious Anthem they once heard. They clashed with the Phyrexians, and exchanges of slashes and smashes were seen.

On the other hand, the magicians of Korlis were casting The Wrath of God inside their stronghold. Unfortunately, the spell doesn’t seem to be completed in time. The Icatians are slowly withdrawing back, layer by layer, as their number lessens. They kept on pulling out until there came a time that they were forced to seek shelter inside the Korlis stronghold. After a few moments, a small number of Icatians, together with the busy Korlisians, were confined inside the single cave where The Wrath of God was being taken care of. The flow of the Phyrexians seems endless, but it stopped for a while. Why? That’s because of the Benalians, lead by King Darien, who flashed just in time, as King Tavalus said: they’re the beacon of hope over a battered army. King Darien proudly shouted: “You will not die until I consent you!” The Benalish Cavalries surprisingly stormed the Phyrexians, bringing forth their doom. “What are you waiting for? Complete the spell!”, King Thelon shouted to King Tavalus and to his priests. He glared at them as if they were the enemy. “The day is not over yet” he shouted, “and unless you have a weak heart, you will stand and fight!” But not too long, the Benalians too were lessening in number. Fortunately, The Wrath of God was already completed. The cave floods with light. A thousand rays shine forth and meld into one. Everyone stopped, amazingly gazing at the large sphere of light. Even the Phyrexians halted, knowing that they are about to embrace their end. The Wrath of God descended to the grounds, devouring everything from all of Dominaria.

The flash was gone. Dominaria was entirely emptied. The plains were clear. No castle was found standing. Even the Three Kingdoms were gone, as a survivor said: “Sometimes, victory demands a high cost”. Dominaria’s glory has been returned once again. Villagers slowly began to come out from their shelters, knowing that there is a new dawn out of Dominaria’s darkness. Each victory opens a new verse.

THE FIFTH ELEMENT: Book 1: Chapters 1 - 2

The Fifth Element

Book 1:

Vanguard

Survival

It was nearly evening when it happened. The setting sun casted a damp of shadows behind the trees and rocks in a green plain. The cold west wind started to bend the tall grasses in a gentle dance. The grandeur of the scene was an irony. The place was quiet and peaceful, yet the situation was dreary and painful.

The sun was hiding in the horizon - hiding from the eyes of mankind, especially from a man, who was solitary and cold on that time. It didn’t seem to resist the vista – the sight of a plain filled with blood – blood of both man and monster. This man was lying on the grass, severely wounded and beaten. About ten meters behind him was a large creature – perhaps an enormous bird of prey, or a dragon, for you can see its pair of large wings. It’s quite hard to conclude its entire appearance, because darkness already began to envelop the place. This creature was dead. All that was seen was a large shadow with vast wings attached to it.

Fortunately, the youth was still alive, but not for long. He needs help! But unfortunately, there was no one around – no one around to save him. He is in the middle of a barren, deserted plain. The winding and endless horizon depicted no trace of community or civilization.

He was doomed.

He was about to embrace his youthful and lonely death, when he saw something - a blurred image. Was it a phantom? Was it Death itself? No, it wasn’t. It was an image of a person, a woman. Darkness concealed her identity, and his sight was dizzy and dreary. She walked silently and calmly towards the fallen warrior and knelt beside him.

“Are you alright?” She placidly and obviously asked.

The man didn’t reply. Instead he asked vigorously, as he was to pump out all his remaining strength:

“Is she alright? How is she? Where...”

The rescuer seemed to be overwhelmed by the stranger's questions, but she simply and sadly shook her head, signaling a negative reply. Without making any sound, tears began to flow from his battered eyes. He bowed his head to the ground so close as if he was to kiss it. He clenched his fists with a symphony of melancholy and hatred, lifted his head, and cried: “So-“, and then he fell into the grooving grass. He fainted. It seemed that he was about to scream a word – perhaps a name – a name of a special one – a name of a loved one.

Resilience

It was a usual Sunday morning in Rhine. The wide streets of cobblestone and bricks were swarmed by merchants of various races. The poor, as well as the rich, were browsing from the different items that can be found from various stalls. In the middle of the crowd was a traveler. This traveler seemed to be altered compared to other rustics. He was wearing a dark – green cape. It was a little dirty, and it has an unusual marking on it. The marking looked like a swirling circle, a whirlwind in particular. His cape almost covered his whole body with exception to his head. He was also carrying a thin, tubular sword without any edges on it, and it was made of steel. It was contained inside a wooden hilt for safekeeping. From the description, we can conclude that he was a magician. The marking and the color of his cape verify that he was a Wind Magician.

This errant, although already a magician, is still young. He’s about twenty - five years old. He was taller than normal and had whiter skin. His black, radiant hair, and his dark, blank eyes differentiated him from the others. As most Wind Magicians were, he was stoic and silent, as though he had a dark enigma. He was always on an erect, noble and dignified posture. Magicians were not usually found on the streets with the commoners, so seeing one in public was a ‘threat’ for them. They always attempted to keep themselves afar from these apt beings. Although this fact was true at most times, it didn’t mean that this mage is alone.

On his right side was another mage, portrayed by the brown cape he was wearing and an old staff he was carrying. This cape of his also had a symbol – a symbol like a range of mountains, symbolizing that he was an Earth Mage. He was Charles, a friend. He was as the same age as his comrade, but he was shorter in height. He had short, brownish hair and jovial, wandering eyes. Unlike his companion, he often looked around himself – casting a bright, gentle smile to everyone who threw back a stare at him. At the back of these gentlemen was a lady.

Silence seemed to be victorious in embracing this group, but soon failed when Charles began to speak. After looking at his back, after scanning the woman behind, he uttered to his friend:

“You know John, you are very lucky to have her.”

John, the Wind Mage, who seemed to be surprised by his companion’s words, peculiarly and puzzlingly replied:

“What? Who’s her?”

“Of course it’s Zephyr! Zephyr is the only ‘her’ you have... now – a – days, right?”

“Oh, right. Whatever.”

John’s eyes looked down in despair. He seemed to see a nostalgic vision – a vision of a past, perhaps a dark past. And he repeated the words, only in a drearier voice:

“Oh, right. Whatever.”

“I see, so you remembered her...“

“Please let’s forget about that, alright? The past is the past. We can do nothing about it,” John bursted in a harsh manner.

After lifting his voice, he suddenly shut his mouth, showing his apology, and restored to his cold, silent self.

Charles, understanding his friend’s sensation, tried to switch the mood of the talk:

“You know, that’s the great thing about you, John. After that tragedy, you are still alive and strong! Thanks to Zephyr, she saved your life! I think you’re not what you are today if you didn’t meet her. I suggest you should treat her something... you know...”

Charles, being hilarious, laughed in a feeble manner. He continued:

“Look at her, John. She’s very beautiful for a Familiar, and even for a real lady, unlike my Guardian... Can I exchange mine with yours?!” He joked.

John, whose attention was slightly caught, looked at Zephyr behind him. Zephyr looked back to him, eye to eye, with her calm and deep eyes. She tilted her head in a very small angle, heralding a query, as if she wanted to ask: "what is it?" John quickly withdrew his eyes and turned his head forward again. Charles stared at him astonishingly and asked:

“I am right, am I not?”

John avoided his eyes in embarrassment. He faintly answered, as though he was murmuring to himself:

“She’s just my Familiar, nothing more... “

They started to walk towards an inn that they once settled on.

To be continued...