The Destiny of Amalah (2 page)

Adriel asked himself, which one of the other seven he hated the most. As he looked at all of the children who stood opposite him, he ran through the list of misdemeanours and sleights that they had committed against him and he decided that he hated them all in equal measure. A cruel smile surfaced on his lips as he embraced the vitriol that was consuming him but simultaneously creating a power surge within him, and his smile became wide and gleeful as the red energy crackled and glowed at his fingertips and shone ever more brightly with each passing second.

Acting on instinct alone, Adriel threw his hands in their direction and he watched as his red streaks hit them about their body. Adriel laughed as they screamed and ran from him in panic. He chased them all, calling them names, not caring that their backs were turned to him, when he threw his red energy bolts at them. No one was spared the fierce rods of energy that Adriel expelled. It cursed through their bodies like electric shocks and sent them into painful spasms. The children screamed and yelped in pain and fear and Adriel enjoyed the chase as he pursued them relentlessly.

‘Keep running,’ he shouted at them. ‘If I don’t get you today, I promise to get you on another,’ he boasted.

Adriel could hurt them now and they knew it. He and the children both knew that there would be no more name calling and stone throwing with impunity: now, there would always be retaliation of the highest order. Now, Adriel felt only disgust for those who ran crying from him. He had been angry and resentful at them but he had not shed a single tear when they had: hit, punched, kicked, pelted and teased him; he had simply snarled and called them names back.

‘How weak they really are,’ he said with contempt.

When the children were out of sight, Adriel stopped his pursuit, not because he was tired but because he knew he could torment them another day. Now, he would face them head on; he would corner them one by one and he would bait them but most of all – he would make them all pay.

Adriel turned on his heel and hurried home. When he arrived at the cottage, he was relieved to find that his father had not yet returned. Adriel walked through the dark and dank corridor that was home and into his father’s library where he began scanning the bookshelves and the floor, where more books lay; some were in piles and some simply scattered around. He selected every book he could find on magic and carried them in piles of four to six to his room.

Adriel placed the books that he wanted to read immediately on the floor, in the centre of his room and put the remainder in his toy chest that was conspicuously empty. He then returned to the library to do one last search and any ensure that he had not missed any other books. Adriel shook his head, as he looked at all the books that his father never bothered to utilise. The books had been his mothers but whilst his father had kept them after her death over five years ago, he was not interested in reading them.

Adriel returned to his room and closed the heavy wooden door behind him. He sat on the floor in the middle of his room and eyed the books in front of him. He spied a thin green hardback book entitled: “First Magick’s”. He looked thoughtfully at it for a few moments, eyeing the majestic writing and elaborate symbols inscribed on the books cover and he wondered if his mother had been a sorcerer.

He knew magic existed but he did not know anyone who had any power. In his village, anyone who developed the ability of a seer or sorcerer generally left to go to Amalah City, or to the magic schools in Lansten and Santeb. Adriel gently stroked the book before he picked it up and began to read his first book on magic.

When he was finished a satisfied smile crossed his face and he went through it again; this time, he practised the spells in the book and he took notes of the potions. He then picked up the next book as he read and from there; he began reading avidly. Adriel didn’t bother to leave his room when his father arrived home and when dinner was ready, he simply piled some food onto a plate whilst saying a few obligatory words to his father and then returned to his room and to the books; much to his fathers relief; for he found his surly son more difficult to understand with each passing day.

Adriel read through the night and even continued to read when his eyes were sore and he only relented to resting them when his candle had burnt out, and then he reluctantly went to bed, thinking only of magic.

In the days that went by, Adriel’s father began to receive complaints about his son’s behaviour from the parents, who Adriel had begun to bully. At night, he would return home to confront his son but was met with similar responses and they always contained a tone of contempt:

‘Why are you so angry father? Is it that they are customers of yours, who are still buying your goods; or is it that every parent in the village has not hesitated to act in defence of their child?’

‘Do not question me Adriel,’ his father would say, raising his voice.

‘I have never questioned your cowardice father,’ he retorted one day, before stalking off into his room.

In the months that passed, a new Adriel had emerged. By day he was the boy that children and then adults had begun to fear. By night he was a hermit; poring over any magical books that he could acquire. He would stay in his room, learning his craft, practising spells and mixing potions.

At seventeen, the streaks of red energy, had evolved into energy balls that he could throw at will, he could move things kinetically with his hands, levitate and conjure things using spells or potions. He had also tired of the village and the people, whom he regarded as small and weak.

On the eve of his eighteenth birthday and without much ado or affection, he informed his father that he was leaving. A few days later, on what appeared to be an inauspicious day, Adriel left his fathers place with a rucksack of clothes; some supplies; hunting equipment and food, and as he closed the gate of the cottage and walked away, he never looked back and he did not care if he ever saw his father again.

Over the years, Adriel ventured through Amalah and the other eight nations. Over time, he learned the magic of other cultures, mastered his own powers and made few friends but many enemies. He chose to align himself with outcasts and criminals and he forged unlikely alliances on his travels.

He lived in the open, sleeping in mountains, caves and forests; trekking through arduous and rough terrain. When he began his travels there had been no plan, only day-to-day life where he acquired what he needed and desired by whatever means he fancied. But now, eight years had passed and whilst Adriel loved his life, he grew restless.

As he rested at the foot of a cavernous mountain in Equer, he decided that he wanted a future, he wanted to leave a legacy but most of all – he wanted to be powerful, he told himself.

‘How powerful?’ he heard a voice ask.

A startled Adriel turned around to see a man with long dark hair standing under a tree and staring at him. ‘I said how powerful?’ he asked again and then smiled.

‘Is this a trick?’ Adriel said quickly, clearly unnerved by his presence. ‘How can you…?’

‘Read your mind?’

‘Yes,’ Adriel said warily.

‘You are powerful Adriel.’ Adriel frowned. ‘Yes, I know your name. I also know what you are thinking and what you wish for.’

‘Then tell me.’

‘Power,’ he replied in a bored tone. ‘You wish for a future where you wield power; where people fear you. Where you are a supreme leader, do you not?’

‘Yes…but…’

The man laughed. ‘Tell me what I do not know dear Adriel. Most people in this world seek love. If you had to choose between love and power; which would you choose?’

‘Power!’ Adriel answered without hesitation.

‘A curious choice: why?’

‘I have travelled this world and seen the experiences of my fellow humans – most of whom, I believe to be weak; most of whom I believe to be stupid,’ he said with disdain. ‘I choose power because unlike a lover, it will not wane, abandon or betray me,’ He said decisively. ‘It will not make ignore glaring truths, or make me sacrifice all that I am for another; as I have seen many do.’

The man laughed quietly to himself: ‘Dear Adriel, I do not think the gods ever envisaged a misanthrope such as you, walking their beloved earth.’ Adriel scrutinised the man carefully but the more he observed, the less he could see. He looked into his eyes but could not say what colour they were, he looked at his face but he could not estimate the age of the strange man who stood before him.

‘Oh the gods do love you for your free will,’ he said, clearly amused. ‘Am I right to say that you would choose to terrorise other humans into submission to get them to do your bidding?’

‘Yes.’

‘Very well Adriel, return to Amalah as you were going to plan. If you show promise; I will have a very interesting proposition for you. If you accept my offer, you will have power beyond your wildest dreams.’

‘Who are you?’

‘Long ago, the name Salwar was accorded to me but you may not speak of that name, nor shall you remember it.’

‘How will I…’ but Salwar was gone, leaving Adriel alone, to wonder about whom the strange being was.

Chapter 2

It was two years since Adriel had seen the curious man on the hill and ten years since he had left Amalah. As he stood on the outskirts of Amalah, his plans raced through his mind and he looked at the four men beside him, who he believed were going to help him achieve his aims.

First, there was Sarid, a feared assassin born of the Hittite people. Sarid had never failed in a mission and he was revered and feared in his nation of Filine. Then there was Titus; a mighty warrior who had infamously slain ten men in a brawl on the outskirts of Basimine that he had deliberately started. Inn brawls were Titus’ introduction to every village he ventured into and it made his job of extortionist relatively easy from those days onwards.

Then there was Probus, a thief of legend. No item was too big or too small, or too secure for Probus to appropriate. Last but by no means least, was Urien, a seer whose power was thus far unparalleled in all of the nations.

In the coming days, Adriel returned to the village where he had grown up. The villagers had promptly informed him of his father’s death but Adriel was indifferent to the news. He had not forgotten the children who had taunted him, even though they had all grown into adulthood, and as he introduced himself to Amalah and settled in, of those who remained; he had them sacked from their jobs, beaten up by his new found friends or turned out of their home and that, was Adriel’s reintroduction to Amalah.

Adriel and his men then ventured to Amalah City and within six months, he had overtaken the town. He initially installed himself as Councillor of the City with Urien as his chief adviser and the remaining men as his Generals. Then Adriel created the Amalayan Order, the Order was to be Adriel’s army, police force and personal guard.

The Order consisted of: minions, soldiers and seers who he had coerced and cajoled into doing his bidding, as well as citizens who could see where the new power was going to lie. As Adriel’s power grew, so did his following and he encouraged ruthless ambition and brutality among his men and women. He rewarded success handsomely but punished failure severely.

As the Order grew in number, they quickly became intoxicated by their own power and relished the fact that there was strength in numbers. They terrorised the people of the City and they began to believe Adriel’s words that promised power, invincibility and immortality.

Within ten years, Adriel had most of the nation of Amalah under his control. As Adriel’s power grew, he set his sights on the other eight nations. The eight nations, like Amalah were divided into six regions and governed by a variety of: royals, regents, councillors and aldermen and alderwomen. Some leaders in regions of Amalah, had tried to stand up to Adriel and his Order but most were exiled, executed or deposed. As Adriel encroached into the regions of some of the other nations’, some of those leaders suffered the same fate as their Amalayan counterparts. Unlike Amalah, Adriel’s control was not pervasive enough and new leaders simply sprang up in place of their fallen ones. Adriel’s hopes were not dashed though, for some leaders simply gave in to his might and resigned, or held onto what little power they had.

Adriel’s reach soon spread through the other nations but as with all repressed people and nations’ rebellions soon began; even in Amalah, the place he considered to be his territory. As the rebellions stirred and became troublesome, the leaders and people of the free regions began to organise and make demands on Adriel and his newly formed Order.

‘Galen in the region of Halimaya - in Amalah no less - has sought fit to appoint himself as the voice of the people,’ Adriel seethed to his council. ‘He makes demands and informs
me
of the people’s discontent. Tobiah of Mantor grows stronger with each passing day, pushing my Order out. And, Princess Rana of Filine defies her mother, the Queen and raises a rebellion. Everyday, a new leader emerges. Everyday I hear of dissention and rebellion,’ Adriel spat.

‘And they are helped by the locals,’ said Sarid. ‘They all share the same goal.’

‘Which is?’ asked Adriel.

‘To rid themselves of you and the Order,’ Sarid said candidly. ‘They wish to be free.’

‘The leaders of the regions and the nations will begin to unite,’ warned Urien. ‘If that happens Adriel, it will be your end.’