With his hand still raised, Ventis looked at the fallen king with empty, uninterested eyes, then slowly lowered his hand and turned away as if he'd finished his work.
Aris could no longer see him. The door was so close, but the soldiers were even closer, making their journey unfeasible. Aris held his left arm to stop the blood flowing. He didn't have time to worry about that, however, as soon a mass of soldiers, almost piled on top of each other, surrounded their mount.
Aris cursed....
He had to make a decision. The gate was close. About 7 meters from them. But the flow of enemy soldiers was colossal. Aris turned his head one last time to take a brief decsion while countering several blades coming dangerously close to his body.
He wasn't going to survive. It was impossible, even for him. His composure began to fade. Panic was going to his head. Soon, he found himself inhaling heavily and his heart began to race.
The strongest king in the world was completely defeated. But did he really deserve this title? He was called that because Ventis never moved. Certainly, his physical abilities were simply the best. True, he could single-handedly defeat a legion of 500 soldiers. But clearly, the strongest was not the King of Arkis.
He had always been a puppet for the other kings, who didn't appreciate him for his strength and independence. He had always been despised and insulted for what he was.
But this was beyond him. The only thing he cared about was his people. His nation. His country. But all that had just gone up in smoke.
The inhabitants had perished. All the buildings were burned. They didn't just want to conquer Arkis. They wanted to destroy it to the last drop. Destroy every trace of the country and its king. Along with his pride and ego.
Aris couldn't think straight. He had already almost accepted his death. Dying with his people was the best choice for him.
Suddenly, a soldier broke through his defenses. The blade went for his throat without restraint. Aris saw it, then closed his eyes, waiting for the end.
But instead of feeling a gaping hole in his body. He felt a warm hand in his right hand. Ana tugged gently, causing him to tip over and avoid the blade.*
In his fall, Airs could see Ana's face. She was crying. Ana had beautiful dark black hair, very straight and quite long. However, she always put it up in a bun to keep it neat and tidy. It gave her an air of bossiness. But on this day, they were all battered and only part of the bun was still in place.
Her light green eyes, however, looked fragile. As if they'd lost their vital strength a long time ago. She'd been born like this, a hamonious face, very pleasant to look at, but the contrast between her dark hair and her light eyes was very sometimes disturbing to look at.
But that day, Aris found it even harder to look at her.
"Majesty"
It was one of the few times the word sounded sincere coming from her. Ana was used to speaking familiarly with the king, but not that day.
She paused for a moment, then said in a low voice:
"Live for us".
Suddenly, an intense light emanated from the king's body. Aris lowered his head in surprise, and was even more so when he saw that a strange circle had appeared on his chest.
"Ana, you..."
Suddenly, he was no longer standing in front of the door. He was no longer in the middle of hundreds of soldiers. He could see neither his horse, nor his capital, nor....
Ana
He had been teleported to a desolate place. All around him were sharp grey rocks and wild animals devouring what remained of the corpses of other animals.
Aris stood there. A good minute without moving. Then he looked around, staggering. His left leg had been injured by one of the soldiers, so he couldn't stand up straight.
With a bewildered look, he spun around, stumbled miserably, struggled to his feet and fell back to the ground.
After some effort, he got to his knees, looking in the direction he thought was where Arkis' closest city stood.
Indeed, he had recognized its land. The westernmost lands of Arkis that didn't really belong to them: the Fallen Lands. They were the border between the human and elven kingdoms.
A great battle had taken place there, rendering the land barren. Nothing grew, nothing lived, except beasts and despair.
So Aris looked to his kingdom. The gateway city was visible. It was Aurubus. But the king's face fell when he saw it.
Aurubus too was engulfed in flame. The city looked like a simple campfire from so far away, but Aris knew it had to be more valuable than a simple campfire.
At least, it was more valuable. For now, the last westernmost city had been destroyed, and Arkis no longer existed...
Aris stood there, on his knees, his arms falling back as if dead, his blood draining onto the ground drop by drop, forming a puddle in no time, his gaze lost, battered, sad, dying, empty, frightened, destroyed....
All these feelings of despair mixed together in the king's weak, wounded body. Only the light of the flames illuminated his eyes, and with the smoke went the legendary Arkis.
Aris remained the dethroned king...