4. Marco's Pride

Nancy Jules recovered from her illness. She bought two bowls of hot mushroom soup and kept on the table where Peter Lim and Marco were sitting. Peter was the best friend of Marco. He served as a knight in the army. The twenty three year old was unofficially known as the best knight of Legendia. Peter would spend his free time mostly with Marco. Marco was his commander but they were never so formal. Peter has always been by Marco’s side, been his defence when someone criticized him, shared all his happiness and pains. They understood each other by mere glances and no necessity to exchange words.

Peter bore an innocent yet mischievous look on his face. He had orange hair, fairly white skin and black eyes. He was shorter than Marco but swifter and full of energy at all times. His built was fairly of a warrior except for his belly that popped out and in now and then.

“When are you going to challenge me with your sword, Marco?”, Peter asked sipping the soup.

“Anytime... whenever you think your capable enough!”, Marco smirked.

“Hold on there... Now what was that? Come again please...”, Peter’s voice rising.

“What did I say; just that you should be prepared before entering an arena of hell.”

“Rightly said! Hell for Marco! My brother, don’t act smart. It won’t be like the last time. Last time was a fluke, a mere luck that I twisted my ankle..”

“...and fell straight on your face.”, Marco burst out with laughter.

Peter stood up just about to strike Marco on the back when he heard a knock on the door. Marco opened the door to see a guard from the castle standing on his doorway.

Marco nodded to the sturdy guard, “Yes?”

“I am the guard of the fourth wall of the Great Castle. The lord has summoned Commander Marco Jules to meet him in the Great Hall as soon as possible. My horse is ready for you.”

Marco was amazed to know that Zimon was calling him to the castle at almost midnight’s time, “Give me few moments.”

He closed the door.

“Peter! The king orders me to visit him. I hope everything is fine.”, he rushed past Peter to grab his wind cloak.

“At this hour?”, Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah! You better go to sleep. But before tell mom about where I am and ask her if she needs anything and make sure...”

“..I know I know! Now leave!”, Peter hushed him out.

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The castle glowed mightily even in the night’s darkness. The rooms were lit by lanterns all over the castle. Perhaps Zimon was not fond of sleeping. The Great Hall was well lightened with different colours. On Marco’s appearance, the guards on top of the fort motioned the gates to be opened. Heavy iron doors rumbled open as the guards pushed the lever in rounds. The entrance of the Great Hall was greeted with a long velvet carpet rolled out till throne. Blabber could not be seen anywhere and Marco was surprised not to find the king in the hall. He then heard Zimon from the far left corner of the hall, “Come, Marco.” Zimon appeared from the arched door. He was wearing his night robes.

“I moved Blabber to my room. I feel uncomfortable to sit on any other chair than Blabber, even in my bedroom.”, he smiled and turned away.

Marco followed him into a passageway leading upstairs. A long corridor came into view, walls of which were filled by numerous frames. Marco has never been anywhere in castle except the Great Hall. Though the desire to get a glance on the frames filled Marco, he strutted across them. He followed Zimon into the vast bedroom. It smelled sweet and heavily scented but Marco had no time to gaze around. He entered the veranda connecting the bedroom; veranda of an unending length travelling across the half circumference of the castle. Blabber was snoring in the veranda. Right besides Blabber rested the white staff of Zimon, leaning against the railing. Plain white in colour, elegant and strong, it heighted Zimon’s shoulders when standing erect. Its apex seemed like a white hill top seen from far away. Zimon sat on the magical chair.

“Ouch!”, Blabber squeaked.

“Sorry Blabber.”, Zimon said and looked at Marco, “This chair was once a living tree. A magical ancient spell turned him into a chair. He was found in the treasures. I liked him a lot so I brought him up here. He can feel the pain like we do and he does have emotions like we have.”

Marco nodded blankly feeling nervous and excited all together. He could see the whole of Legendia from the veranda. The moon’s light poured gently on the city as if a blessing is being poured upon. The kingdom looked calm and beautiful with a scent of cold breeze.

“You must be wondering why you have been summoned here, right?”, Zimon said, his eyes gazing elsewhere.

“Yes, my lord. Does something bother you?”, Marco spoke for the first time since he entered the castle.

“No, but what I am about to tell you is going to bother you alot.”

Marco felt like a madman standing to solve riddles asked from a genius.

Zimon stood up, “You know not much about your family, Marco. I imagine you know nothing!”

Marco felt something sinking hard in his belly. He got flushed with anticipation. ‘He’s going to tell me about my family,’ he thought.

“Your father was never a Legendian nor was your mother.”

“Then where do they exactly come from?”, Marco asked.

“Irasy.”, Zimon answered calmly. “Your parents were Irasian.”

Marco slipped into a shock.

“Your father died just three months before you were born... he died in Legendia.”, Zimon quickly added.

Marco always knew he did not belong to Legendia. He was never treated as one of them, always looked upon like he had committed a crime in the past and never appreciated for all he had done for Legendia. “Why did he come to this place?”

“Because he, your mother and you in her womb were thrown out of Irasy by its people.”, Zimon looked at Marco very seriously. “He betrayed the faith of Irasy. Your parents had no place to live. I invited him to settle here since we were good friends.”

“How come you both were friends?”, Marco’s mind was racing with questions. ‘So that’s why I was given a post of a commander?’ First he thought he was held as a commander because he was the best swordsmen in the city.

“Good question.”, Zimon’s dull face lit up into a smile then he turned serious again, “So you know your father’s name?”

“Troswood...”, Marco replied in a questioning manner.

“Full name?”, Zimon lifted an eye.

“Er... Troswood Jules?”, his heart racing faster than ever.

Zimon shook his head. “Troswood Hymes!”, Zimon paused, “Does something strike your mind?”

Marco took a long pause before uttering, “Hymes.. Olgreg Hymes.”

“Yes.”, Zimon sighed. “Troswood’s brother is Olgreg Hymes. Before Olgreg, your father was the king of Irasy!”

Marco took several moments to realize that what he heard was actually what he heard. He didn’t know whether he should jump from the veranda or slap himself to wake up from the dream.

“If he was the king, why was he not allowed to stay in his own country?”

Zimon nodded while gently stroking his beard, “Your father made a terrible mistake, Ofcourse, he later realized that he had done wrong, but then Olgreg and the king’s counsellors were so furious that they turned the whole city against him. Olgreg was not ready to forgive him. Your father was certainly a nice man. He was the king and could still retain his throne by other means, but he accepted his guilt and migrated to Legendia. I and Troswood never let anyone know that he was from Irasy. He was ashamed of telling any Legendian, that he, the king of Irasy has let down his own people. So he chose to live in the Urbas Society and the humble fellow made Legendia his home.”

“What wrong had he done so big?”, Marco sensing slight rage in his tone.

“He was a powerful king. Great power corrupts even the greatest of the minds. He craved for more power, this time turning towards dark magic. He was very much attracted with the offer that Elezabor Mighthorn announced, to teach dark arts and become invincible.”

“The Dark Lord?”, Marco was stunned.

Zimon nodded, “Troswood walked into the Dark Dume and requested if he could learn from the Dark Lord.”

Both went silent for a while. Zimon tapped his staff on the ground to break the silence between the two. “The Dark Lord had other plans. He asked your father to convince the men of Irasy to join the Dark Lord. He offered Troswood for more power and wealth. However, on Troswood’s rejection to his request, Elezabor cast a spell on him so that he would do as per Elezabor’s commands. He came to Irasy and suggested his men to join the Dark Lord. It was then that the men turned furious at his idea. However, I was in Irasy at the right time to break the spell Elezabor had cast upon him. There was an outbreak in Irasy... a massacre. Civilians marched on the lanes for throwing him off the throne, crimes increased, the agriculture was affected as a result of theft on the lands, merchants fled to other cities and havoc increased in Irasy until Troswood gave up the throne and Olgreg took charge of it. But I knew my friend was pure at heart. The only sad fact is that he never got a chance to prove himself.

“You must not wander much in the past, but what I want to say now is much more important, Marco.”, Zimon said.

‘What more was left to be said’, Marco thought, still unable to believe what he heard.

“I know it will be troubling to you for a while. You have been very loyal to me and this city. You have fought three times without fear to serve my kingdom faithfully. Now that you know your true origin, do you still want to serve Legendia? I have no right to force you in my army, so whatever your decision is I will glad fully accept it.”

Marco did not flinch, “My soul and blood must originate from Irasy, but my home is Legendia; and you..”, he paused, “You are... like a father to me”, the vein on Marco’s temple prominent enough.

“I am privileged by your kind words. So you will continue?”, Zimon smiled.

“Till my last breath, my lord.”

Zimon sighed deeply and finally spoke, “Marco every king has a successor to come.”

Marco nodded.

“I am a wizard. I can live for a longer time than non wizards. But just to be on the safer side, I would like to choose my successor. Moreover, wizards also become old. We also need rest. I would love to spend rest of my life somewhere peacefully once Legendia is in safe capable hands.”

“Why does it trouble you suddenly, my lord?”

“There is a battle to come, much worse than any we have seen. Once my biggest worry, Mighthorn is wiped out, I can take a nice vacation and wander in the woods.”, Zimon giggled childishly, which was a rare sight to witness.

Before Marco could utter anything, Zimon spoke, “Anyway that’s not the point. What’s to be bothered now is that I’m to choose and declare my successor and in that case you have to help me.”

“My lord, you are the best knower of all the men. It’s better if you take the decision yourself.”

“I have already!”

“Sorry?”

“Yes, Marco.”, Zimon was face to face now, “I know who can rule my kingdom.”

“That’s ... good.”, Marco ran out of words. He wanted to run; run away from the castle to his home, to his bed from where he can wake up fresh from his nightmare.

“You are a wonderful warrior, Marco. I made you a commander not because you are my friend’s son, but because of your exceptional abilities with a sword in your hand and your supreme leadership qualities.”

“You think more than what I am actually my lord.”, Marco was blushing.

“It is a fact. Soldiers in your batch are much well trained than those under Marvelo and Wills. Your strategies are also much impressive and in par with those of Crevol’s. You could make a great leader. Will you take the responsibility of a king, Marco?”, Zimon finished his sentence in one go.

Marco’s eyes were set completely on Zimon’s, none of whom blinked. Millions of things raced in his mind. He would get luxury, comfort and best of all, he would be the ruler of Legendia, the Emperor of Legendia. Marco could not breathe. ‘The king trusts me so much!’, he thought. ‘Is this the way my father’s efforts were going to be rewarded? I can’t say no to Zimon, not after all that I heard tonight.’

‘Ofcourse, I am from a royal family of a king’, Marco said to himself. A deep urge, passion and burning desire engulfed him. He loved Legendia and its people, now atleast more than before. Legendia has a debt on him and his parents by providing him shelter. He was going to pay the debt by taking up this huge responsibility.

After ages of silence, Marco spoke, “No matter how the people are going to react, this city has done a lot for me and my parents. I vow today that the welfare of the city and its men are my responsibility after you and that I am fearless to face any danger that brings harm to this kingdom. I will protect them. Accept me as your successor, O’ Lord William Zimon!”.