To look into something evil is to just stare with no justification in space, not wanting to get a second glance. Wanting to bury ones eyes away from such a horrible sight.
To listen to something so evil burns your ears, hurts the soul as if heaven close off its gates to the fallen. The redemption could had been generous for such folks who listen to the evil and wish their ears weren’t so exact in doing its function.
The vile of what men comprise to be is the pessimism of human interaction with establishing and maintaining societal order. The ruler of men who become such a horrid soul can be describe in words such as the ones below..
—Excerpt from Avenging Knights “Rebirth of Lost Honor.”
The Metalfurn Bridge held above the muddling rivers of the 2nd
Kingdom and dampen trolls lived beneath as protectors and hunters.
Th e Metalfurn Bridge displayed numerous statues of long-forgotten
great marble dragons of 4th Lebos. Th is bridge was the walking
entrance of the 2nd Kingdom from which the courtyard was in full
view. Sellers of all kinds displayed their wares of luxury and necessity.
Also many musicians played in the yard creating an atmosphere of
gaiety and celebration. Th is display of excitement was very unusual to
the inhabitants of this kingdom. Th e ruler; Demtrius Saxmous, had
called this festival with the aim of giving an important speech to the
people of his kingdom. Th is action astounded the people because of the
breaking of normal routine of work to supply of major factories with
the weapons and goods that enhanced the economy of this particular
kingdom. Th e courtyard held many exotic trees masking green and
copple fruits, a favorite of many people of 4th Lebos. Demtrius Saxmous
walked to the stage that was stationed near the northeast corner of the
courtyard. Around him were armed guards of the Templer Order as
well as secret soldiers posing as common citizens among the people.
“My faithful citizens of the great and beloved kingdom! Hear my
words of caution and concern. In many walks of life actions determine
our journey as we should live in peaceful harmony with nature. Now
the great school of thought that has enriched our youths for many enos
has grown, largely due to your commitment to higher levels of personal
elevation. Th is commitment has enhanced the progression of our
kingdom into one of the popular places to live on 4th Lebos. I applaud
you for this strong commitment of excellency and perfection of the
human mind. Our faith and hard work earns us the gift of peace and
long life. Now at this time of harmony we must endure our greatest
trouble. We must hinder the acts of a few individuals who would
destroy our peaceful way of life. My citizens, these subversives are in
league with the terror monster that is responsible for many deaths in
the outlying countries of our kingdom as well as all of 4th Lebos. Th ese
insurgents are in league with the evil werewolves that infest our vast
counties outside these great gates. They must be stopped, but I need
your help with this matter. With your strength and determination we
will be victorious in the end. Th ere will be an army of such warriors
that will protect us and help our forces defeat these immoral rebels.
Now the help I want from you, my citizens, is to obey the curfew
imposed by the new army that will be introduced on a later date. Your
compliance with the orders of this army will assure your safety as well
as that of others in 4th Lebos. To assure you of the legitimacy of our
guardians I will send documentation to everyone showing the duties
of the new army and a description of the rebel forces which threaten
The ruler went on for another ten minutes discussing the purpose
of the army and the destruction of the rebel forces. Demtrius Saxmous
was a ruler of might but disdained by free thinkers of the kingdom
for his actions in past wars against any one who opposed him. These
murders and acts of torture and experimental dark sciences of distorted
dwarves had earned him the name Luna King.
Lord Saxmous finished his speech and walked off the stage as his
commoners applauded. He was quickly greeted by his advisor Bojo.
“My lord, the work is almost complete but I have my aversions,”
remarked Bojo as he followed Lord Saxmous down the winding wooden
staircase decked out with glimmering gold coins.
“Tell me your concerns,” invited Lord Saxmous in a somewhat
“Lord, we are pulling a lot of our forces behind this project. Even
the men we are giving to the General are not coming back. You haven’t
told me anything, for example, why are our men not coming back from
Furndar’s training? Also will our defensive front be protected from
invading hordes of tolern shades?”
“Our men are—expendable.”
“Our men will not return, at least not as they were before. Our
front is being protected by Furndar’s additional troops.
“Sir, his additional troops are not combat ready. I can count on
my one hand how many have actually been in blood. Th is is foolish
Lord Saxmous, nearing the bottom of the staircase that led to a
lower passage to his throne, stopped in mid stride. His eyes narrowed
in a mad glare as Bojo stepped away in alarm.
“You fool, you inane inept excuse for a man,” spit an angered Lord
Saxmous. “Your minute brain dares to questions my orders? Your
inquiries are an insult to my honor.”
“My lord, I am your advisor, what good am I if I don’t advise you?
I can’t sit back in cowardly silence and allow decisions that threaten the
security of our kingdom to go unquestioned.”
Lord Saxmous promptly wrapped his hands around the throat of
his advisor and snapped it like he was breaking wood for a fi re.
“Silence is all you will ever have.”
Lord Saxmous nodded his head towards the back hallway. Men
appeared out of cover of darkness as the wind descended upon the
blooded stone walkway. Th e men picked up the decreased advisor and
disappeared quickly as they had come. Lord Saxmous, not missing a
stride, proceeded to walk down the hallway towards a hidden room,
situated in the far recesses of the castle. Th is room was perfect for death;
numerous swords and axes were draped on the wall along with long
chains of metal with knives at each end. Th e chains spread throughout
the fl oor like walking rugs and displayed blood stains of blue, red, and
green. His face was emotionless as in truth he hated this room, the
same room in which his beloved had died so long ago. He glared into
the shadows. Scattered rays of moonlight invaded the room. He saw
a wasted fi gure, a man, tortured, who seemed to beg for death. His
face bore many scars as well as a slow bleeding lip as droplets of blood
quietly fell onto the hellish fl oor one, by one, by one, by one…..
Th e man’s body was very thin, bones forming small hills on his
sickly skin. It was like he was imprision for many enos but only a
few days has past. Th e victim, this miserable soul fell to the Haunting
Spell of Morseth, a condition of slow demise. His eys were red from
dying blood cells and countless tears. His arms were like tree branches
from Nephilim’s Sorrow; slim, deformed, and more sadly—useless.
Incredibly, he lifted his unclean head, hoisted on his skinny torn neck,
to mumble words that were diffi cult to comprehend; Met-furn—idge.
“You mean Metalfurn Bridge, do you not?” questioned the Luna
King Lord Saxmous.
Th e man replied nothing as his strength left him and he hung his
head low once again. His breaths were slow, like the ticking of an
old grandfather clock. He choked on his own vomit. Lord Saxmous
ignored his pained whimpering and continued to speak.
“There’s an interesting story being that bridge. Do you care to hear
it?” Th e Luna King continued, not really desiring an answer from his
“Metalfurn Bridge was the great stronghold of this kingdom.
In fact, your mother Niamu Ter was a great warrior. Her strength
was greater than all the men in the kingdom at that time. She loved
defeating would-be invaders who were foolish enough to challenge the
authority of my father Lord Sin Saxmous of Nor. She bathed in their
blood; seriously, she would drink the essence of her fallen and pray to
the Eastern Witches for greater Will of Th ought. You see, will have
thoughts is the reward of the strong, and the curse of the weak. Will of
Thoughts is a term from the old guards that the human mind potential
is powerful to rise above birth rulers, rule of law, and even you fictional
gods. You remember the tales of Suze Yoga out of body combat. What
isn’t written in you books of knowledge is Will of Thoughts is the
finial progression of the mind to the point that you could travel to
different worlds, even to the end of time itself. Your mother was willful
in destroying anyone who threatened the king of Nor but also was a
student of the old guards. She had the conviction to murder without
limitation and in time she was fi nally killed herself. Not from any
invader but by a Keltmanger acting on the orders of my father. You
must realize that she was becoming too much of a force and needed to
be silenced, as do you. She also believed in the Past Days of Morf, the
old guards belief, Will of Th ought. You share her knowledge without
even knowing it. You conspire with others for progression of oneself
without obedience to the kingdom-state. You with your act of sedition,
reciting foul words against the authority on 4th Lebos. Believing in
nothing yet corrupting any foolish idiot who would give an ear to
listen. You, who would poison the education of realism with your lies.
You craved the attention of the onlookers but only for your narcissistic
motives. You sicken me, everything I loathe is within you.”
At that point, Lord Saxmous spat in the face of the tortured man as
his head still hung low, quietly weeping.
“You found assurance to speak against the order of 4th Lebos,
against the masters of the planet. You actually believed that freedom
is a right even unto the onlookers and passerby of my kingdom. Th e
rule of men gave only governing wealth to the brightest and strongest,
those who have eyes to see and ears to pay heed. Only a few must rule
the many, the many must bow to the few. It is the reason of order; the
reason for your existence is to serve—US. Th ere is no greater duty than
to serve the masters of your existence. Don’t be alarmed or fearful,
we will guide you and mold your soul to the likeness of normalcy.
We, the masters, care for all our progeny, even the ones who disavow
our laws. We care even for the ones who curse in dark closets, with
burned out candles and whiskey-smelling breath. Forgiveness is only
begotten in death. In a sense you were more dangerous than your
mother, Advisor Bealom. You will be forgiven as your companions
Bojo and Tork were forgiven as well. Bojo suffered a broken neck, and
Tork, well, he accidentally drank sorro poison instead of his wine. He
should be dying now, come to think of it. If you listen carefully you
can—– hear his whimpering.”
Th e man who used to be Advisor Bealom tilted his head towards
another dark room and heard whispers of anguish. Th e voice sounded
familiar; he believed it was Tork but couldn’t discern his condition
from his mumbled speech. He knew he would be better off dead. He
noticed that Lord Saxmous the Luna King was silently glaring at him
with as much hatred as ever before.
“You will remain here until you depart from Lebos,” continued
Lord Saxmous. “Your life will be prolonged so that you may hear
the whispers of agony until you yourself wither away in total disgrace.
Even though you weren’t the principal of this failed rebellion, I hate
you more because you were smarter than them. For that you will suffer
the most pain. Listen to my voice, listen to my words, I will recite a
poem of ancient origins until you die…..
The knight walks down
To river’s edge
Wanting to atone
For his own
His father was murdered
It was his fault,
His mother was a whore,
It was his burden
His sister was blind
But sadly lost her mind….
Th e dying advisor coughed up an ounce of blood as his legs trembled
from his inner bleeding as the Luna King carried on.
He knelt down
On the ground
And saw muelves
Dancing and laughing
Crying and sobbing
Releasing their societal pains
Enhancing his own shame
The knight then grabbed his sword,
Pointed towards his neck
Ready to fall forward
But he was stopped
For a second
For a question
It was a muelve, glaring awkwardly
Why are you doing this?
Why do you want to hurt your life?
Why end your life
Here’s some advice
Remember the calm reason of being sane
In your king’s name.
Lord Saxmous then walked closer to Bealom who was barely
I dishonor my family claimed the knight,
I was cursed for my failure which caused the demon’s
My father, mother and sister are doomed
To which I assume
Was my doing of betraying my king?
Without a ring,
With no earthy singing
Only death will be honorable
Only if my life hereafter is condemned.
The muelve in all her exquisiteness
(Luna King placed his hands across the lower back of Bealom)
Placed her hands on the knight’s back
(Luna King drew out his sword that reflected the moonlight)
Pushed forcefully downwards until the sword pierced
The knight’s chest,
Blood ran out,
(The king sliced across Bealom’s neck with one motion)
The muelve replied
I hope your honor is now sanctified
as I sort of told a lie,
I knew of your curse
For it was me,
The forever tree
Of forest obscurity
And midnight wind
I curse thee
For looking at me
since your little age of ten,
You committed the greater sin
You lust after me,
So I curse thee,
Just wanted you to know that
Your family died because of me,
And you died as a coward,
In spite of me
The Luna King grasped the throat of Bealom and whispered an
enchantment that slowed the blood to small droplets.
“Unlike the poem, I didn’t lie, not in deception nor in this,” mocked
Lord Saxmous. “You will expire alone, listening to whispers of agony
from your companion remembering the ode, remembering my voice…..”
(artwork done by the great Kevin “Lil Kev” Ray of St. Louis, MO)