Well, this is only a rough outline that has been sitting on my phone for months. The way my scheduel is going I don't know if I will ever get around to actually writing the book but I wanted to share it and see what everyone thought. Maybe get some tips, pointers, or ideas. 
Let me know what you think!
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A mist swirled through the trees as a lone swordsman, Nathaniel, lopes over the field of battle on his gallant steed. The white horse was sprinkled with brown roan and splotched with thumbnail sized, black appaloosa spots. The main and tail were a hazy gray with bits of brown and white mixed in. The steed was careful to step over and around the heaps of bodies, places where the fighting had been concentrated.
The swordsman still clutched his drawn sword in his hand, a solid black blade and handle that seem to be one seamless piece. The brown leather wrapping on the handle, as the warrior himself, is covered in blood... But not a drop of it is his own.
He was a skilled warrior, greater than any other swordsman in the kingdom. But it was more than that which saved him from so much as a scratch in his battles against the kingdom's most recent foes. These particular enemy swordsman seemed to almost avoid him, they would often hesitate in battle against him, almost as if they were unsure about attacking him. Which is odd considering that the enemy fights with a reckless abandon and seem to know no pain.
Nathaniel wanders through the forest anxiously, hoping and praying that some of his men survived. He scans the ground for wounded and calls out through the fog.
"Hail! Long live the king!"
A single answer echoes through the cold air. "Hail! Long live the king!"
And then a second... And third.
"Hail! Long live the king!"
"To me men!" Nathaniel calls out. "Rally to me!"
"Nathaniel?" A voice calls, growing closer each second. "I knew you would be out there somewhere." Slade, Nathaniel's right hand man, appears through the fog on foot, clutching his left shoulder as his arm hangs limp.
"Slade!" Nathaniel jumps off his horse and rushes over to the older man. He inspects his slender, stick-like form up and down for wounds and injuries.
Just then another holler rings through the clearing fog. "Nathaniel?"
Nathaniel looks up from Slade. "Here! I am here."
"I cant see," the voice replies, evident distress seeping through the warrior's words.
Nathaniel goes back to his horse and grabs a medical kit as he continues the conversation. "The fog is clearing. Follow my voice and soon the sun will burn away the mist."
"No, my lord..." The voice wavers and cracks. "It's my eyes. I cant see."
At this Nathaniel looks up, his brow creased with concern. He starts to leave, hesitates and takes a step back towards Slade, then looks back into the fog.
"Go!" Slade tells him. "It's just my shoulder."
Nathaniel nods, tosses his friend the medical supplies, and looks back out into the fog. The faint shape of trees is now visible in the distance. "Anyone who is uninjured keep coming this way! I am heading out to find the blinded man."
"I hear you," the third man calls out. "I am close, I will find my way. Go help him!"
"I am here!" The blind man calls out.
Nathaniel rushes into the fog after the man. He wonders through the fog towards the voice until he sees a figure in the distance. It is faint and hunched over. He rushes forward, taking the man by the shoulders and lifting him to look at his face. A second of hesitation hits him as he sees a boney nose, the end seemingly decayed off. The man's ears are nearly nonexistent, only mangled shreds of skin dangling from the side of his head. The left side of his face is bulging and he has a sword in his gut that clearly belongs to one of Nathaniel's fellow swordsman. In that second of hesitation, as Nathaniel took in the sight, the figure reveals a dagger and thrusts at his gut. Nathaniel lurches back in horror at the sight as well as to avoid the dagger.
"Traitor!" The man mutters. "I'll kill you and the lot of them!"
Despite the sword in his gut, which he barely seems to notice, he rushes at Nathaniel. Nathaniel calmly steps to the side and with a swift motion of his hands flips the man head over heals. The man hits the ground and Nathaniel winces, looking away as the sword through his gut is shoved nearly through his body by the impact.
"Nathaniel?" A voice calls out. Nathaniel recognizes it as the blind man. He glances back at his defeated enemy and shakes head at the gruesome sight, then turns towards the man's voice and keeps on moving.
"I'm coming!" He finds the blind man stumbling towards him. "I'm here! Hold on."
The man looks as though he was struck by a sword right across the face. Blood still dripped from the messy and dirty wound and obvious pain could be seen in every movement the man made.
Nathaniel leads him back to where the other knight has found Slade and begins tending to the gaping wound on the man's face.
"Heaven help you, you poor soul!" Slade exclaims upon seeing the man's wound. Nathaniel shoots him a silencing glance. There is certainly no need to work the man up any more than he already is.
The other knight, who seems unwounded, winces at the sight but says nothing.
After all wounds are tended and the fog has cleared Nathaniel and the other knight set up camp, start a fire, prepare some food, etc...
Once they have settled in and are waiting for the food to cook Nathaniel walks a short ways away to inspect the lifeless body of one of the enemy soldiers.
He nudges the body with his foot, rolling it over on it's back. A gory face, much like his earlier encounter, stairs lifelessly up at him. He moves over to another, wonder and confusion running through his mind.
"Same as the last batch?" Slade asks.
Nathaniel nods slowly, meandering back towards the campfire on a swaying path. He shakes his head as he stairs at his feet. "Why..." He throws his hands in the air. "They are all so young... All so deformed. They have never given any demands, any explanation for their attacks, nor do they bear any emblem or signet of the land from which they come." He picks up a small stick, breaks it in half and throws it into the fire with a sigh. "Meanwhile, we risk and loose hundreds of good men for a cause that we have no understanding of and no way of resolution." He thinks for a long time. "Traitor..." He mumbles.
"What?" Slade askes.
"The one I met in the woods..." Nathaniel shakes his head and shrugs. "He called me a traitor."
"Traitor?" Slade wonders. "What are you supposedly betraying?"
Nathaniel lets out a deep breath. "I have no idea."
Upon inspection, Nathaniel discovers that all the swordsmen for the enemy are very young, just as all other times before. Despite their young age, however, they are grossly malformed and mutated in odd ways such as crooked noses, missing ears or nose tips, dysfunctional crooked and mallshapped teeth, and abnormal growths in their muscles.
Nathaniel and three other survivors take the news back to the king.
"A king shall live for the people, fight for the people, and die for the people!" -- King Skolleos
--—
The procession comes in with the king and Nathaniel, the sword-master, takes a place in the row near the eldest princess. Despite the fact that Nathaniel is the highest ranking swordsman in the kingdom he has a rough look about him. He cares none for fancy attire or costly possessions. His most expensive belonging is his sword and the cost of his weapon lays not in intricate design or jeweled hilt but in the sturdiest of builds, the strongest of blades, and the sharpest of edges.
Nathaniel himself wears his simple looking sword in a brown scabbard that matches his brown leather armor. The armor is light and flexible, offering protection and maneuverability. Under his armor he wears a simple tan, long sleeved shirt and brown leather pants. His armor is simple, only decorated with an imprint of the kingdom crest on every piece with an additional emblem representing the old kingdom of King Skolleos.
Nathaniel has dirty blond hair with streaks of dark brown running through it. His hair reaches just past his shoulders and he keeps it in a pony tail most of the time. He has an unshaven face decorated with scratchy beard stubble. His eyes are as green as the grass in a lush spring field. His face is long with a square jaw and pronounced cheek bones.
All the people say, as the king walks in, "Hail! Long live the king."
Nathaniel says a note softer than everyone else but still well pronounced, "I always loved king Skolleos!"
The princess glares at him, hearing his words.
Nathaniel smiles and winks at her in return.
The king (not Skolleos, who has been dead for generations) introduces the new prospects who are to become knights of the kingdom and congradulates his men on their recent victory in battle. There are two young men and the king's youngest daughter. (Whom Nathaniel is already training and acting as her personal instructor)
The second young man catches Nathaniel's eye as well. He seems like an upright sort of character.
After the official ceremony, festivities begin. Jezallia, the eldest princess, approaches Nathaniel.
Jezallia is tall and slender with long, elegant features befitting a queen. Her nose, is dainty, her eyes big, and her face smooth with feminine structure. Her skin is very light and always has a smooth even tone to it as if she had just come from the beauty parlor. She has vibrant blue eyes that put the bluest sky to shame and a smile that would soften even the staunchest of hearts. Her knee length golden hair has a sparkling sheen to it and she always has a simple design of decorative braids and hair pieces that match her current outfit.
"Jezallia," Nathaniel greets her with a bow of his head.
She grabs his arm, a glare creasing her brow. She pulls him over to an unoccupied corner of the room. "Your boldness will cost us all. Don't give my father reasons to exile you!"
"My boldness is my essence, Princess. Would you have me be something other than what I am?"
Jezallia shook her head with a sigh. "That is not what I mean, Nathaniel."
"My boldness has protected your throne," Nathaniel continues.
Jezallia shakes her head softly and with concerned eyes tries to shush Nathaniel.
"My boldness has trained your armies," he continues.
"Nathaniel..." Jezallia tries to shush him again, putting a finger to her lips.
"My boldness has saved the life of the king."
Nathaniel pauses as he sees Jezallia wince and a voice sounds from behind him. "So it has, but what of your boldness, good swordsman?" Nathaniel turns around to find the king standing behind him. He bows his head respectfully as the king continues. "Is your boldness true to the kings of today or does your loyalty cling to the archaic lords of old?"
Without skipping a beat Nathaniel looks the king straight in the eye and replies, "I would pray, my king, that the two options prove not to be mutually exclusive. If I would die for your forefathers who are themselves dead, then I would hardly hesitate to die for their progeny."
With a stifled smile and a gentle nod the king puts a hand on Nathaniel's shoulder. "Well said, my good man. I hope your prayers reach the ears of the Devine." At this he turns back towards the festivities and returns to the crowd.
Nathaniel looks back at Jezallia to find her with a furrowed brow. With a sigh she hangs her head, then looks back up to Nathaniel. "You know my father would offer you my hand in marriage if only your resolve for the laws of the land were not so lax."
At this Nathaniel stiffens. "Who says, dear princess, that I desire your hand in marriage?"
Jezallia clenches her jaw and looks at him with wide eyes. "You are the most belligerent man I have ever known!" With a swift turn on her heals she sends her golden hair flinging around in a swirling display as she takes her leave.
Nathaniel and Mirasha are training in the castle.
She has sun-tanned skin with a gentle sand-blown pattern of snow-white freckles. Her hair is thick and pure white, her eyes gray as smoke. Sometimes, when her heart burned within her, Nathaniel would swear he saw fire in that smoke. Her lips are dark brown by nature and her form is short and slim with sharp, yet attractively feminine features.
They have just finished a sparing match and are taking a break.
"Jezallia says you had a run in with father again," Mirasha says with a teasing smile.
Nathaniel shakes his head and sighs. "Your dear sister exaggerates. Her and I had a disagreement about my..." He raises an eye bow and lifts his hands. "Boldness... I think was the term she used. The king merely overheard and commented."
Mirasha's smile dims. "She told me about you disagreement. Why did you tell her you don't desire her hand in marriage?"
"Ah!" Nathaniel straightens up and points a finger at Mirasha. "Now see, I never said that." Mirasha raised an eye brow and gave him a quizzical look. She had been the middle-man in more than a few spats between Nathaniel and her sister. "All I said," Nathaniel continues. "Is, 'Who says that I desire your hand in marriage?' Not the same thing... I never actually said that I didn't."
"Nathaniel," Mirasha rests her hands on her hips and cocks her head to the side as she gives him an almost motherly look. "You know that to my sister that's-"
"I know!" Nathaniel interrupts, squinting and waving a hand at Mirasha. "To her it's the same thing." He sighs and his feisty voice dwindles to a thick sorrow. "There is more to it... More than Jezallia is willing to see."
"But Nathaniel," Mirasha objects, knowing where he is heading. "Think of all the good you could do as king! You could restore the old code, train a new generation to live with honor and dignity!"
Nathaniel shakes his head again. "It is not in the best interest of the people for me to-"
This time Mirasha interrupts. "A king shall live for the people, fight for the people, and die for the people." She pauses only briefly. "I think you would make a wonderful king."
At this Nathaniel smiles, honored to know Mirasha thinks so highly of him. "Thank you. However, being king is more than that. There are parties,"he flings a hand to one side. "Diplomacy," he continues, flinging his left hand to his other side. "Laws to write, meetings to attend." At this he flings both hands up in the air and slumps into a chair. "There is fancy clothing and... and fancy dinning. Fancy... Everything." He sighs and continues his rant. "I'm a simple man. Those are all things I cant use. Things I don't want or need."
Mirasha raises her chin and scarcely gets her mouth open before Nathaniel continues. "Don't get me wrong!" He stands back to his feet and holds a hand up in a defensive manner. "Jezallia... She looks..." He pauses and raises both eyebrows with a heavy exhale. "She looks amazing in the fancy clothes and hair pieces. She does wonderful at the social functions and diplomacy. She will make a wonderful queen. I'm..." Nathaniel shrugs. "I'm not her equal. I would hold her back from being her best."
"Are you done?" Mirasha asks.
Nathaniel squints and gives her a sideways look. "Yes...I guess."
Mirasha chuckles, "You were ranting again."
"I wasn't ranting!" Nathaniel protests. "I was just-"
"You were ranting," she restates with a nod of her head, eyebrows raised. "You always rant when your uncomfortable with a conversation."
"I... that's..." Nathaniel clenches his jaw and points an accusatory finger at Mirasha. "You..."
"A duel then?" She proposes.
At the word "duel" Nathaniel suddenly collects his wits, stands sturdy, and calms himself. "If You win?"
"If I win," Mirasha answers. "You must go to my sister and explain to her everything you just explained to me." Nathaniel starts to object but Mirasha continues. "If for no other reason simply so she knows that you do love her."
Nathaniel looks hard at his student. "She knows that I love her."
"Have you ever told her?" Mirasha asks.
"Wha... I cant!" Nathaniel objects. "The laws of the land clearly state that unless the king has first given consent-"
"Do we have a deal or not?" Mirasha interrupts.
Nathaniel glares at Mirasha, a low gravely growl emanating from his throat. "Deal." He pulls out his sword.
Mirasha pulls out her sword in turn and the duel begins. Nathaniel starts of slow. A simple series of attacks. Two high, one low and from the left, and another from the right.
Mirasha steps back, easily blocking all four attacks. She sidesteps, circling around Nathaniel as she swipes at him with her own blade.
Their dance goes on, but only for a short time.
Suddenly the kings walks into the training room where Nathaniel and Mirasha are dueling.
"Mirasha," the king greets his daughter. "How is your morning training going?"
Mirasha pauses in the middle of her duel with Nathaniel as her father calls her name. A moment's hesitation and Nathaniel lunges in with his blade and stabs her in the heart, the tip of his sword pressing only lightly against her crimson leather armor.
"Not quite up to par," Nathaniel answers for Mirasha. He grins and sends her a wink. Mirasha exhales heavily and frowns at her defeat. Her frown, soon turns into a glare as she mouths the words, "Doesn't count."
Nathaniel simply turns and walks away.
The King chuckles and walks over to Mirasha, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He's the best swordsman in the kingdom, dear. You don't need to give him any extra advantage."
Mirasha raises an eyebrow at her father and puts her sword in her scabbard, only after Nathaniel sheathes his own. "Did you want to talk to me father?"
The king looks to his feet and folds his hand. "Yes... Yes I did."
"Father-" Mirasha begins to speak but with a slight motion from across the room Nathaniel urges her to remain calm. She cuts herself off just before her father tries to do the same.
"Mirasha, don't try and argue with me." He turns around and stairs into the wall, leaving Mirasha at his back. "I know you have made a formal request to join the next campaign." He then turns to look at Nathaniel. "And I realize you have the signature of your trainer, attesting to your skills." He clears his throat and then looks back to Mirasha. "However, I have denied your request."
"Father!" Mirasha begins her advent protest. Another slight motion from Nathaniel calms her words. "Please," she continues in a more level voice. "I am third in line for the throne, Jezallia is of age and will be having children within a few years..." At this she sends a fleeting glance towards Nathaniel, who scowls in return. "Even if something were to happen to her or her children... Shay will be next in line-"
"Mirasha!" Her father scolds her. "My concern with you going to battle is not that I will lack a child to take the throne after me. War is dangerous and it is a risk better left to those who are born to it."
Mirasha straitened her back and narrowed her eyes. "A King shall live for the people, fight for the people, and-"
"Silence!" The king hollers. "Battle is the job of a swordsman," he glares over at Nathaniel. "Not royalty."
"The kings of old went to battle," Mirasha said with a stern voice.
The king walks closer to her and stoops down to stair her in the eyes. "Yes, they did... And they died." At this he walks back to the door of the training room. "My decision is final." He then leaves and shuts the door behind him.
Mirasha turns to Nathaniel. "I told you he wouldn't let me go."
"Not all opportunities for glory are opportunities of choice," Nathaniel tells her, pulling out a small dagger and sharpening it as he talks. "The mightiest swordsman of old did not gain glory for their skill but for their service. They did not always choose their battles but they simply did what had to be done. A wise warrior avoids a fight but knows how to handle himself when he finds himself caught in one. Royalty is a position of responsibility, not privilege. Don't ever forget that. Hold true to that responsibility and the time will come when you are called upon to serve your people."
Mirasha sighs and nods. "Then, when the time comes that my kingdom is in danger... How do I know which is the greater service? My people or my king?"
Nathaniel smiles and taps the tip of his dagger on Mirasha's chest armor. "When the time comes, listen to what's under the armor," He then touches the flat edge of his dagger gently to the top of her head as he says, "Not what's above the armor." With that he gives her a wink and turns to walk away. "Lessons are over for today."
In the end the king sees that Nathaniel is right and the king must live, fight, and die for his people. Mainly after his second daughter, Shay, is killed by an invading party of swordsmen. The king refuses to fight, for fear of his life, to save his daughter. Instead he lets his swordsman and knights try and save her. They, however, fail. They stop the invaders but Shay gets killed in the process.
When yet another campaign comes against the kingdom, the largest one yet, the king knows he must go out to fight with his men.
Disheartened by his cowardly act that cost his daughter her life the king blames himself and has apologized to Nathaniel for all previous berating in regards to the old ways. He also informs Nathaniel that he intends to accompany him and the army in the upcoming battle.
Nathaniel tries to persuade him not to. "Sire, you have not used a sword in ten years... And even then, never in real battle. Your desire is noble, but let my men and I handle this one. Give yourself time to train and knock the rust off your blade."
"No," the king says solemnly. "I have had thirty eight years as king... No, I will take no more time to fill my office as I should have from the beginning."
"You know, Majesty, that I of all people will support this decision... But your new found spirit will do your people no good if you get yourself killed."
"A king shall live for the people," the king mutters softly. "Fight for the people," he continues in a slow somber tone. "And die for the people."
It is at this time that Mirasha goes to Her father demanding to be allowed to fight the oncoming invaders.
Mirasha shows up and when she walks in the door Nathaniel could swear he saw a flicker of fire in her eyes.
Mirasha has no idea, at this point, that the king has been talking to Nathaniel about the old code.
"Father I must speak with you," Mirasha says, walking up to him, clad in armor and her sword on her side. "I'm not taking no for an answer."
Her father looks at her with kind, yet sorrowful eyes. For the first time he notices her armor, just like Nathaniel's has imprinted into each piece the emblem of his kingdom, and another smaller emblem. The emblem of King Skolleos.
"Request granted," he says. With his chin up he looks down on his daughter proudly.
"Father I am not taking no... Wait... did you say, 'request granted'?"
The king nods. "You were right, Mirasha... I see that now. I have abused my position as king for my own gain when it is meant to be for the gain of the people. No longer... I would be honored if you would ride out to battle at my side, my valiant princess."
Mirasha stands in stark amazement, jaw open but unable to find the words to say. She glances at Nathaniel but his silence offers her nothing. She looks back at her father. "At your side?"
"Yes," he answers. "I will be riding out with the men to battle. If this is to be our kingdom's last stand I will not go down as a coward in history. I pray the future generations will look kindly upon me for coming to my senses at my end."
"Father don't talk like that!" Mirasha scolds. "Nathaniel and I can lead the men to victory. This is not the end!" She steps forward, a loving and concerned look in her eyes. "Father, you haven't held a sword in ages. Please, take time to practice your skills before risking your life."
"Ages?" The king questions. "How many ages old do you think I am child? Besides, I held a sword when I knighted you... That was not so long ago." He chuckles, a forced laugh.
Mirasha looks cross at him. "Father-"
"No, dear child," he stops her. "I will not be swayed." He chuckles. "You have studied at the feet of your trainer well." He glances at Nathaniel. "Nathaniel has already reasoned with me in the same efforts which in you now travail. This is my decision, however, and it is final. I will ride with my men to war."
"Then let us waist no more time," Nathaniel says. "Mirasha," he turns towards her. "Help me prepare your father for battle."
Mirasha and Nathaniel help the king get in his armor, run through some basic exersises with him and refresh his memory on basic sword play tactics.
The men are encouraged with the king at their sides and against the odds win the battle but the king dies in the battle.
(Add a teary eyed scene with Mirasha and her father as he dies. He lives long enough to know his daughter survived and his men won the battle. He tells them to set Jezallia as queen, tells Nathaniel that he expects him to marry her, and instructs Mirasha to be the new military leader as soon as Nathaniel deems her ready. He then apologizes to Mirasha again for trying to sway her from her moral convictions, tells her she was right all along and says that now he can die in peace knowing he has not abandoned the ways of his forefathers.)
Jezallia then takes the throne, trying to convince Nathaniel to marry her and be king. He, however, does not want the position, which has been his main hesitation to marrying her from the beginning. Mirasha takes charge of the armies, at only 14 years old, leads them to victory against the invaders who are amassing yet again for an attack.
Mirasha's skills astound even the hardened veterans of the army. In addition to her skill, however, the enemy seems to hesitate when she engages them. It almost seems as though they don't want to or are unsure about fighting her.
Her and Nathaniel realize that the enemy seems to recover and multiply at an unnatural rate so they head off on a quest to discover the source of the armies' power.
Jezallia is hesitant to let the two people she loves most go on such a dangerous mission... But for the good of the kingdom she knows she must.
They discover, eventually, that the enemy is lead by a seemingly immortal man who calls himself Skull. It is reported that this man has supernatural powers and calls on the dark one for aid. This concerns Nathaniel. Going to battle against an invading army is one thing, but black magic is beyond his skill set. He is concerned he may have drawn Mirasha into more than the two if them can handle. He tries to convince her to go home, even going as far as to tell her he doesn't need her anymore. She realizes what is going on however, and after some hurt feelings she makes it perfectly clear that she is committed unto the bitter end... And besides, she is the ranking officer now that Nathaniel deemed her ready to take charge of the military. He tries to use the argument of, "Well if I marry your sister That would make me king, so I would still be your superior." She repeats all the lessons Nathaniel had taught her about royalty being a position of servitude, about the old code of dying for the people, and about the great warriors don't get to pick their battles they simply do what must be done. He can't argue against his own teachings.
The two continue on and eventually meet Lord Skull. He is a very tall man with shoulders as broad as a tree. His hair is red as flame, his eyes brown with a yellowish tint, and his sturdy, square jaw, is set off center to one side only slightly. The man has six fingers on his hands and a large pronounced nose.
As the conversation with Lord Skull progresses, Nathaniel, who has already been shocked at the man's appearance, begins to realize that this man not only looks exactly like the descriptions and drawings of King Skolleos but it IS King Skolleos.
It ends up that when he "died" a witch doctor saved his body. The body had strands of life left in it and the witch doctor revived him through a long and arduous process. Eventually he became strong but when he realized that without the black magic of this man he would fail again to his deathly state he broke and succumbed to the temptation of life under fear of death.
Eventually he overcame the man and killed the witchdoctor and used the black magic himself, with which he has been able to sustain his life all these years.
He spent those years perfecting a form of mind control through the dark arts, torture, and manipulation. This is how he builds his army.
He realizes that young minds are far more susceptible so he steals teens and after the brainwashing is done he loads them up on steroids. This makes them grow unnaturally strong and muscular, fight with a blind rage, and become nearly immune to pain. As well as causes the mutations.
He lived in peace for a long time, but when he realized the kings of the land had abandoned his creed he began to plot. He waited another generation... And another, in hopes that they would turn back to the old ways. But the evil had poisoned his mind and he thought he was serving the people by creating an army to destroy the kingdom and "brining it back to the ancient creed."
Skolleos can not be swayed and fighting ensues. Nathaniel, Mirasha, the other young Knight, and two of Nathaniel's best men (one is Slade) fight off and kill all Lord Skull's men.
Nathaniel sacrifices himself, in multiple occasions, to save someone else from an injury. In the end he is bleeding, bruised, and dying. All his companions safe and him still standing between them and Lord Skull with Mirasha at his side.
At this point Skolleos sees in Nathaniel a true nature as to that of which he maintained when he was king.
"A king shall live for the people, fight for the people, and die for the people," he mutters softly. "I see now... I could not fulfill my own creed. I was not willing to die for my people. By my own twisted purpose I have now become a target of assassination to myself."
At this he turns back in repentance, destroys his tools of black magic, and with them himself and his entire army fades away in wisps of smoke.
The army returns, beaten down and barely able to stand in the presence of their queen whom meets them half way between their fight and the castle, clad in armor for battle with the few remaining men of the kingdom.
"Nathaniel!" Jezallia exclaims, seeing his condition. She dismounts her horse and runs over to him. She pauses momentarily to examine Mirasha, grabbing her hands and looking into her eyes for a split second. Satisfied Mirasha is relatively unharmed, she then rushes to Nathaniel's side as Slade and the young knight lay him down. Jezallia shakes her head, fear flooding her eyes and competing with the tears that trickle down her cheeks. "You foolish... Brave man."
Nathaniel looks up at her. "What on earth are you doing in armor?" He asks, a scolding tone in his voice. Jezallia glares at him, slightly taken aback.
"We came to save you," she shot back while rummaging through he pack for her medical supplies. "We didn't know what had happened! You could have all been captured... Or... Dead!"
Nathaniel grins and closes his eyes with a slight wince as Jezallia begins tending to his wounds and replacing his bandages.
"We come out here, ready to fight along side you as your code instructs," Jezallia continues as she wraps his injuries with hasty and rough motions. "And all you say to me is, 'What on earth are you doing in armor?'" Jezallia gives her last wrap a good jerk, pulls it tight and ties it.
At the contentions between the two of them Mirasha, Slade, and the others move away, giving them some space and tending to their own minor injuries.
At her roughly tied knot Nathaniel cringes, moaning with pain.
Jezallia's stern demeanor crumbles at his face. Her resolve to stay upset at him running like sand through a sifter. "I'm so sorry!" She apologizes. "I didn't mean to hurt you." She says, a hand over her mouth and her forehead wrinkled with concern.
Nathaniel opens one eye wide, the other squinting to nearly closed. "Good..." He says hesitantly. "Because you didn't." He grins widely.
At this Jezallia flushes with embarrassment and gasps. "You..." She lifts a hand to smack him on the chest, only just catching herself before she strikes his injured form. She sighs and gives him a perturbed, yet playful look.
"So what were you doing?" Nathaniel asks again.
"Upholding the code of the kingdom," Jezallia says, trying to seem casual about it.
"The code says that a king lives, fights, and dies for the people," Nathaniel points out. "Never says anything about the queen. Besides..." He says, looking up at her with soft eyes. "I'd rather you put off that whole dying business for at least another sixty years or more."
Jezallia smiles and looks down at him. "Well," she says, placing her medical supplies back in her bag. "I guess you will just have to stick around and watch over me to make sure I don't do anything reckless."
Nathaniel chuckles, then moans a bit at the pain it ensues. "I guess so..." He stairs up into Jezallia's eyes for a long moment.
Mirasha watches intently from a distance.
Nathaniel smiles wearily, the look on his face seeming almost as if he were remembering fond memories of times long past. Slowly he lifts his hand towards Jezallia's cheek but stops an inch away from her face. He looks at his blood covered hand. He dare not blotch her perfect complexion.
Jezallia stairs back at him, her heart pounding so loud she is sure everyone in their company could hear it. Slowly she reaches up, putting her small hand on the back of Nathaniel's and pressing his palm against her cheek.
Nathaniel closes his eyes for a brief moment, a single tear escaping from the corner of his eye as he gently pulls Jezallia's head down to him. He brings her head right to his and whispers softly in her ear, "I love you."
Jezallia exhales nervously, feeling as though the air were knocked out of her as tears start streaming uncontrollably. She smiles fondly and looks into his eyes. "I know." With that she leans in and kisses him gently on the lips.
Mirasha, who is still watching from her seat near the other men, stairs on, wide eyed. A large smile stretches over her face and she looks away to give the two their privacy.
Let me know what you think!
_____________________________________________________________
A mist swirled through the trees as a lone swordsman, Nathaniel, lopes over the field of battle on his gallant steed. The white horse was sprinkled with brown roan and splotched with thumbnail sized, black appaloosa spots. The main and tail were a hazy gray with bits of brown and white mixed in. The steed was careful to step over and around the heaps of bodies, places where the fighting had been concentrated.
The swordsman still clutched his drawn sword in his hand, a solid black blade and handle that seem to be one seamless piece. The brown leather wrapping on the handle, as the warrior himself, is covered in blood... But not a drop of it is his own.
He was a skilled warrior, greater than any other swordsman in the kingdom. But it was more than that which saved him from so much as a scratch in his battles against the kingdom's most recent foes. These particular enemy swordsman seemed to almost avoid him, they would often hesitate in battle against him, almost as if they were unsure about attacking him. Which is odd considering that the enemy fights with a reckless abandon and seem to know no pain.
Nathaniel wanders through the forest anxiously, hoping and praying that some of his men survived. He scans the ground for wounded and calls out through the fog.
"Hail! Long live the king!"
A single answer echoes through the cold air. "Hail! Long live the king!"
And then a second... And third.
"Hail! Long live the king!"
"To me men!" Nathaniel calls out. "Rally to me!"
"Nathaniel?" A voice calls, growing closer each second. "I knew you would be out there somewhere." Slade, Nathaniel's right hand man, appears through the fog on foot, clutching his left shoulder as his arm hangs limp.
"Slade!" Nathaniel jumps off his horse and rushes over to the older man. He inspects his slender, stick-like form up and down for wounds and injuries.
Just then another holler rings through the clearing fog. "Nathaniel?"
Nathaniel looks up from Slade. "Here! I am here."
"I cant see," the voice replies, evident distress seeping through the warrior's words.
Nathaniel goes back to his horse and grabs a medical kit as he continues the conversation. "The fog is clearing. Follow my voice and soon the sun will burn away the mist."
"No, my lord..." The voice wavers and cracks. "It's my eyes. I cant see."
At this Nathaniel looks up, his brow creased with concern. He starts to leave, hesitates and takes a step back towards Slade, then looks back into the fog.
"Go!" Slade tells him. "It's just my shoulder."
Nathaniel nods, tosses his friend the medical supplies, and looks back out into the fog. The faint shape of trees is now visible in the distance. "Anyone who is uninjured keep coming this way! I am heading out to find the blinded man."
"I hear you," the third man calls out. "I am close, I will find my way. Go help him!"
"I am here!" The blind man calls out.
Nathaniel rushes into the fog after the man. He wonders through the fog towards the voice until he sees a figure in the distance. It is faint and hunched over. He rushes forward, taking the man by the shoulders and lifting him to look at his face. A second of hesitation hits him as he sees a boney nose, the end seemingly decayed off. The man's ears are nearly nonexistent, only mangled shreds of skin dangling from the side of his head. The left side of his face is bulging and he has a sword in his gut that clearly belongs to one of Nathaniel's fellow swordsman. In that second of hesitation, as Nathaniel took in the sight, the figure reveals a dagger and thrusts at his gut. Nathaniel lurches back in horror at the sight as well as to avoid the dagger.
"Traitor!" The man mutters. "I'll kill you and the lot of them!"
Despite the sword in his gut, which he barely seems to notice, he rushes at Nathaniel. Nathaniel calmly steps to the side and with a swift motion of his hands flips the man head over heals. The man hits the ground and Nathaniel winces, looking away as the sword through his gut is shoved nearly through his body by the impact.
"Nathaniel?" A voice calls out. Nathaniel recognizes it as the blind man. He glances back at his defeated enemy and shakes head at the gruesome sight, then turns towards the man's voice and keeps on moving.
"I'm coming!" He finds the blind man stumbling towards him. "I'm here! Hold on."
The man looks as though he was struck by a sword right across the face. Blood still dripped from the messy and dirty wound and obvious pain could be seen in every movement the man made.
Nathaniel leads him back to where the other knight has found Slade and begins tending to the gaping wound on the man's face.
"Heaven help you, you poor soul!" Slade exclaims upon seeing the man's wound. Nathaniel shoots him a silencing glance. There is certainly no need to work the man up any more than he already is.
The other knight, who seems unwounded, winces at the sight but says nothing.
After all wounds are tended and the fog has cleared Nathaniel and the other knight set up camp, start a fire, prepare some food, etc...
Once they have settled in and are waiting for the food to cook Nathaniel walks a short ways away to inspect the lifeless body of one of the enemy soldiers.
He nudges the body with his foot, rolling it over on it's back. A gory face, much like his earlier encounter, stairs lifelessly up at him. He moves over to another, wonder and confusion running through his mind.
"Same as the last batch?" Slade asks.
Nathaniel nods slowly, meandering back towards the campfire on a swaying path. He shakes his head as he stairs at his feet. "Why..." He throws his hands in the air. "They are all so young... All so deformed. They have never given any demands, any explanation for their attacks, nor do they bear any emblem or signet of the land from which they come." He picks up a small stick, breaks it in half and throws it into the fire with a sigh. "Meanwhile, we risk and loose hundreds of good men for a cause that we have no understanding of and no way of resolution." He thinks for a long time. "Traitor..." He mumbles.
"What?" Slade askes.
"The one I met in the woods..." Nathaniel shakes his head and shrugs. "He called me a traitor."
"Traitor?" Slade wonders. "What are you supposedly betraying?"
Nathaniel lets out a deep breath. "I have no idea."
Upon inspection, Nathaniel discovers that all the swordsmen for the enemy are very young, just as all other times before. Despite their young age, however, they are grossly malformed and mutated in odd ways such as crooked noses, missing ears or nose tips, dysfunctional crooked and mallshapped teeth, and abnormal growths in their muscles.
Nathaniel and three other survivors take the news back to the king.
"A king shall live for the people, fight for the people, and die for the people!" -- King Skolleos
--—
The procession comes in with the king and Nathaniel, the sword-master, takes a place in the row near the eldest princess. Despite the fact that Nathaniel is the highest ranking swordsman in the kingdom he has a rough look about him. He cares none for fancy attire or costly possessions. His most expensive belonging is his sword and the cost of his weapon lays not in intricate design or jeweled hilt but in the sturdiest of builds, the strongest of blades, and the sharpest of edges.
Nathaniel himself wears his simple looking sword in a brown scabbard that matches his brown leather armor. The armor is light and flexible, offering protection and maneuverability. Under his armor he wears a simple tan, long sleeved shirt and brown leather pants. His armor is simple, only decorated with an imprint of the kingdom crest on every piece with an additional emblem representing the old kingdom of King Skolleos.
Nathaniel has dirty blond hair with streaks of dark brown running through it. His hair reaches just past his shoulders and he keeps it in a pony tail most of the time. He has an unshaven face decorated with scratchy beard stubble. His eyes are as green as the grass in a lush spring field. His face is long with a square jaw and pronounced cheek bones.
All the people say, as the king walks in, "Hail! Long live the king."
Nathaniel says a note softer than everyone else but still well pronounced, "I always loved king Skolleos!"
The princess glares at him, hearing his words.
Nathaniel smiles and winks at her in return.
The king (not Skolleos, who has been dead for generations) introduces the new prospects who are to become knights of the kingdom and congradulates his men on their recent victory in battle. There are two young men and the king's youngest daughter. (Whom Nathaniel is already training and acting as her personal instructor)
The second young man catches Nathaniel's eye as well. He seems like an upright sort of character.
After the official ceremony, festivities begin. Jezallia, the eldest princess, approaches Nathaniel.
Jezallia is tall and slender with long, elegant features befitting a queen. Her nose, is dainty, her eyes big, and her face smooth with feminine structure. Her skin is very light and always has a smooth even tone to it as if she had just come from the beauty parlor. She has vibrant blue eyes that put the bluest sky to shame and a smile that would soften even the staunchest of hearts. Her knee length golden hair has a sparkling sheen to it and she always has a simple design of decorative braids and hair pieces that match her current outfit.
"Jezallia," Nathaniel greets her with a bow of his head.
She grabs his arm, a glare creasing her brow. She pulls him over to an unoccupied corner of the room. "Your boldness will cost us all. Don't give my father reasons to exile you!"
"My boldness is my essence, Princess. Would you have me be something other than what I am?"
Jezallia shook her head with a sigh. "That is not what I mean, Nathaniel."
"My boldness has protected your throne," Nathaniel continues.
Jezallia shakes her head softly and with concerned eyes tries to shush Nathaniel.
"My boldness has trained your armies," he continues.
"Nathaniel..." Jezallia tries to shush him again, putting a finger to her lips.
"My boldness has saved the life of the king."
Nathaniel pauses as he sees Jezallia wince and a voice sounds from behind him. "So it has, but what of your boldness, good swordsman?" Nathaniel turns around to find the king standing behind him. He bows his head respectfully as the king continues. "Is your boldness true to the kings of today or does your loyalty cling to the archaic lords of old?"
Without skipping a beat Nathaniel looks the king straight in the eye and replies, "I would pray, my king, that the two options prove not to be mutually exclusive. If I would die for your forefathers who are themselves dead, then I would hardly hesitate to die for their progeny."
With a stifled smile and a gentle nod the king puts a hand on Nathaniel's shoulder. "Well said, my good man. I hope your prayers reach the ears of the Devine." At this he turns back towards the festivities and returns to the crowd.
Nathaniel looks back at Jezallia to find her with a furrowed brow. With a sigh she hangs her head, then looks back up to Nathaniel. "You know my father would offer you my hand in marriage if only your resolve for the laws of the land were not so lax."
At this Nathaniel stiffens. "Who says, dear princess, that I desire your hand in marriage?"
Jezallia clenches her jaw and looks at him with wide eyes. "You are the most belligerent man I have ever known!" With a swift turn on her heals she sends her golden hair flinging around in a swirling display as she takes her leave.
Nathaniel and Mirasha are training in the castle.
She has sun-tanned skin with a gentle sand-blown pattern of snow-white freckles. Her hair is thick and pure white, her eyes gray as smoke. Sometimes, when her heart burned within her, Nathaniel would swear he saw fire in that smoke. Her lips are dark brown by nature and her form is short and slim with sharp, yet attractively feminine features.
They have just finished a sparing match and are taking a break.
"Jezallia says you had a run in with father again," Mirasha says with a teasing smile.
Nathaniel shakes his head and sighs. "Your dear sister exaggerates. Her and I had a disagreement about my..." He raises an eye bow and lifts his hands. "Boldness... I think was the term she used. The king merely overheard and commented."
Mirasha's smile dims. "She told me about you disagreement. Why did you tell her you don't desire her hand in marriage?"
"Ah!" Nathaniel straightens up and points a finger at Mirasha. "Now see, I never said that." Mirasha raised an eye brow and gave him a quizzical look. She had been the middle-man in more than a few spats between Nathaniel and her sister. "All I said," Nathaniel continues. "Is, 'Who says that I desire your hand in marriage?' Not the same thing... I never actually said that I didn't."
"Nathaniel," Mirasha rests her hands on her hips and cocks her head to the side as she gives him an almost motherly look. "You know that to my sister that's-"
"I know!" Nathaniel interrupts, squinting and waving a hand at Mirasha. "To her it's the same thing." He sighs and his feisty voice dwindles to a thick sorrow. "There is more to it... More than Jezallia is willing to see."
"But Nathaniel," Mirasha objects, knowing where he is heading. "Think of all the good you could do as king! You could restore the old code, train a new generation to live with honor and dignity!"
Nathaniel shakes his head again. "It is not in the best interest of the people for me to-"
This time Mirasha interrupts. "A king shall live for the people, fight for the people, and die for the people." She pauses only briefly. "I think you would make a wonderful king."
At this Nathaniel smiles, honored to know Mirasha thinks so highly of him. "Thank you. However, being king is more than that. There are parties,"he flings a hand to one side. "Diplomacy," he continues, flinging his left hand to his other side. "Laws to write, meetings to attend." At this he flings both hands up in the air and slumps into a chair. "There is fancy clothing and... and fancy dinning. Fancy... Everything." He sighs and continues his rant. "I'm a simple man. Those are all things I cant use. Things I don't want or need."
Mirasha raises her chin and scarcely gets her mouth open before Nathaniel continues. "Don't get me wrong!" He stands back to his feet and holds a hand up in a defensive manner. "Jezallia... She looks..." He pauses and raises both eyebrows with a heavy exhale. "She looks amazing in the fancy clothes and hair pieces. She does wonderful at the social functions and diplomacy. She will make a wonderful queen. I'm..." Nathaniel shrugs. "I'm not her equal. I would hold her back from being her best."
"Are you done?" Mirasha asks.
Nathaniel squints and gives her a sideways look. "Yes...I guess."
Mirasha chuckles, "You were ranting again."
"I wasn't ranting!" Nathaniel protests. "I was just-"
"You were ranting," she restates with a nod of her head, eyebrows raised. "You always rant when your uncomfortable with a conversation."
"I... that's..." Nathaniel clenches his jaw and points an accusatory finger at Mirasha. "You..."
"A duel then?" She proposes.
At the word "duel" Nathaniel suddenly collects his wits, stands sturdy, and calms himself. "If You win?"
"If I win," Mirasha answers. "You must go to my sister and explain to her everything you just explained to me." Nathaniel starts to object but Mirasha continues. "If for no other reason simply so she knows that you do love her."
Nathaniel looks hard at his student. "She knows that I love her."
"Have you ever told her?" Mirasha asks.
"Wha... I cant!" Nathaniel objects. "The laws of the land clearly state that unless the king has first given consent-"
"Do we have a deal or not?" Mirasha interrupts.
Nathaniel glares at Mirasha, a low gravely growl emanating from his throat. "Deal." He pulls out his sword.
Mirasha pulls out her sword in turn and the duel begins. Nathaniel starts of slow. A simple series of attacks. Two high, one low and from the left, and another from the right.
Mirasha steps back, easily blocking all four attacks. She sidesteps, circling around Nathaniel as she swipes at him with her own blade.
Their dance goes on, but only for a short time.
Suddenly the kings walks into the training room where Nathaniel and Mirasha are dueling.
"Mirasha," the king greets his daughter. "How is your morning training going?"
Mirasha pauses in the middle of her duel with Nathaniel as her father calls her name. A moment's hesitation and Nathaniel lunges in with his blade and stabs her in the heart, the tip of his sword pressing only lightly against her crimson leather armor.
"Not quite up to par," Nathaniel answers for Mirasha. He grins and sends her a wink. Mirasha exhales heavily and frowns at her defeat. Her frown, soon turns into a glare as she mouths the words, "Doesn't count."
Nathaniel simply turns and walks away.
The King chuckles and walks over to Mirasha, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He's the best swordsman in the kingdom, dear. You don't need to give him any extra advantage."
Mirasha raises an eyebrow at her father and puts her sword in her scabbard, only after Nathaniel sheathes his own. "Did you want to talk to me father?"
The king looks to his feet and folds his hand. "Yes... Yes I did."
"Father-" Mirasha begins to speak but with a slight motion from across the room Nathaniel urges her to remain calm. She cuts herself off just before her father tries to do the same.
"Mirasha, don't try and argue with me." He turns around and stairs into the wall, leaving Mirasha at his back. "I know you have made a formal request to join the next campaign." He then turns to look at Nathaniel. "And I realize you have the signature of your trainer, attesting to your skills." He clears his throat and then looks back to Mirasha. "However, I have denied your request."
"Father!" Mirasha begins her advent protest. Another slight motion from Nathaniel calms her words. "Please," she continues in a more level voice. "I am third in line for the throne, Jezallia is of age and will be having children within a few years..." At this she sends a fleeting glance towards Nathaniel, who scowls in return. "Even if something were to happen to her or her children... Shay will be next in line-"
"Mirasha!" Her father scolds her. "My concern with you going to battle is not that I will lack a child to take the throne after me. War is dangerous and it is a risk better left to those who are born to it."
Mirasha straitened her back and narrowed her eyes. "A King shall live for the people, fight for the people, and-"
"Silence!" The king hollers. "Battle is the job of a swordsman," he glares over at Nathaniel. "Not royalty."
"The kings of old went to battle," Mirasha said with a stern voice.
The king walks closer to her and stoops down to stair her in the eyes. "Yes, they did... And they died." At this he walks back to the door of the training room. "My decision is final." He then leaves and shuts the door behind him.
Mirasha turns to Nathaniel. "I told you he wouldn't let me go."
"Not all opportunities for glory are opportunities of choice," Nathaniel tells her, pulling out a small dagger and sharpening it as he talks. "The mightiest swordsman of old did not gain glory for their skill but for their service. They did not always choose their battles but they simply did what had to be done. A wise warrior avoids a fight but knows how to handle himself when he finds himself caught in one. Royalty is a position of responsibility, not privilege. Don't ever forget that. Hold true to that responsibility and the time will come when you are called upon to serve your people."
Mirasha sighs and nods. "Then, when the time comes that my kingdom is in danger... How do I know which is the greater service? My people or my king?"
Nathaniel smiles and taps the tip of his dagger on Mirasha's chest armor. "When the time comes, listen to what's under the armor," He then touches the flat edge of his dagger gently to the top of her head as he says, "Not what's above the armor." With that he gives her a wink and turns to walk away. "Lessons are over for today."
In the end the king sees that Nathaniel is right and the king must live, fight, and die for his people. Mainly after his second daughter, Shay, is killed by an invading party of swordsmen. The king refuses to fight, for fear of his life, to save his daughter. Instead he lets his swordsman and knights try and save her. They, however, fail. They stop the invaders but Shay gets killed in the process.
When yet another campaign comes against the kingdom, the largest one yet, the king knows he must go out to fight with his men.
Disheartened by his cowardly act that cost his daughter her life the king blames himself and has apologized to Nathaniel for all previous berating in regards to the old ways. He also informs Nathaniel that he intends to accompany him and the army in the upcoming battle.
Nathaniel tries to persuade him not to. "Sire, you have not used a sword in ten years... And even then, never in real battle. Your desire is noble, but let my men and I handle this one. Give yourself time to train and knock the rust off your blade."
"No," the king says solemnly. "I have had thirty eight years as king... No, I will take no more time to fill my office as I should have from the beginning."
"You know, Majesty, that I of all people will support this decision... But your new found spirit will do your people no good if you get yourself killed."
"A king shall live for the people," the king mutters softly. "Fight for the people," he continues in a slow somber tone. "And die for the people."
It is at this time that Mirasha goes to Her father demanding to be allowed to fight the oncoming invaders.
Mirasha shows up and when she walks in the door Nathaniel could swear he saw a flicker of fire in her eyes.
Mirasha has no idea, at this point, that the king has been talking to Nathaniel about the old code.
"Father I must speak with you," Mirasha says, walking up to him, clad in armor and her sword on her side. "I'm not taking no for an answer."
Her father looks at her with kind, yet sorrowful eyes. For the first time he notices her armor, just like Nathaniel's has imprinted into each piece the emblem of his kingdom, and another smaller emblem. The emblem of King Skolleos.
"Request granted," he says. With his chin up he looks down on his daughter proudly.
"Father I am not taking no... Wait... did you say, 'request granted'?"
The king nods. "You were right, Mirasha... I see that now. I have abused my position as king for my own gain when it is meant to be for the gain of the people. No longer... I would be honored if you would ride out to battle at my side, my valiant princess."
Mirasha stands in stark amazement, jaw open but unable to find the words to say. She glances at Nathaniel but his silence offers her nothing. She looks back at her father. "At your side?"
"Yes," he answers. "I will be riding out with the men to battle. If this is to be our kingdom's last stand I will not go down as a coward in history. I pray the future generations will look kindly upon me for coming to my senses at my end."
"Father don't talk like that!" Mirasha scolds. "Nathaniel and I can lead the men to victory. This is not the end!" She steps forward, a loving and concerned look in her eyes. "Father, you haven't held a sword in ages. Please, take time to practice your skills before risking your life."
"Ages?" The king questions. "How many ages old do you think I am child? Besides, I held a sword when I knighted you... That was not so long ago." He chuckles, a forced laugh.
Mirasha looks cross at him. "Father-"
"No, dear child," he stops her. "I will not be swayed." He chuckles. "You have studied at the feet of your trainer well." He glances at Nathaniel. "Nathaniel has already reasoned with me in the same efforts which in you now travail. This is my decision, however, and it is final. I will ride with my men to war."
"Then let us waist no more time," Nathaniel says. "Mirasha," he turns towards her. "Help me prepare your father for battle."
Mirasha and Nathaniel help the king get in his armor, run through some basic exersises with him and refresh his memory on basic sword play tactics.
The men are encouraged with the king at their sides and against the odds win the battle but the king dies in the battle.
(Add a teary eyed scene with Mirasha and her father as he dies. He lives long enough to know his daughter survived and his men won the battle. He tells them to set Jezallia as queen, tells Nathaniel that he expects him to marry her, and instructs Mirasha to be the new military leader as soon as Nathaniel deems her ready. He then apologizes to Mirasha again for trying to sway her from her moral convictions, tells her she was right all along and says that now he can die in peace knowing he has not abandoned the ways of his forefathers.)
Jezallia then takes the throne, trying to convince Nathaniel to marry her and be king. He, however, does not want the position, which has been his main hesitation to marrying her from the beginning. Mirasha takes charge of the armies, at only 14 years old, leads them to victory against the invaders who are amassing yet again for an attack.
Mirasha's skills astound even the hardened veterans of the army. In addition to her skill, however, the enemy seems to hesitate when she engages them. It almost seems as though they don't want to or are unsure about fighting her.
Her and Nathaniel realize that the enemy seems to recover and multiply at an unnatural rate so they head off on a quest to discover the source of the armies' power.
Jezallia is hesitant to let the two people she loves most go on such a dangerous mission... But for the good of the kingdom she knows she must.
They discover, eventually, that the enemy is lead by a seemingly immortal man who calls himself Skull. It is reported that this man has supernatural powers and calls on the dark one for aid. This concerns Nathaniel. Going to battle against an invading army is one thing, but black magic is beyond his skill set. He is concerned he may have drawn Mirasha into more than the two if them can handle. He tries to convince her to go home, even going as far as to tell her he doesn't need her anymore. She realizes what is going on however, and after some hurt feelings she makes it perfectly clear that she is committed unto the bitter end... And besides, she is the ranking officer now that Nathaniel deemed her ready to take charge of the military. He tries to use the argument of, "Well if I marry your sister That would make me king, so I would still be your superior." She repeats all the lessons Nathaniel had taught her about royalty being a position of servitude, about the old code of dying for the people, and about the great warriors don't get to pick their battles they simply do what must be done. He can't argue against his own teachings.
The two continue on and eventually meet Lord Skull. He is a very tall man with shoulders as broad as a tree. His hair is red as flame, his eyes brown with a yellowish tint, and his sturdy, square jaw, is set off center to one side only slightly. The man has six fingers on his hands and a large pronounced nose.
As the conversation with Lord Skull progresses, Nathaniel, who has already been shocked at the man's appearance, begins to realize that this man not only looks exactly like the descriptions and drawings of King Skolleos but it IS King Skolleos.
It ends up that when he "died" a witch doctor saved his body. The body had strands of life left in it and the witch doctor revived him through a long and arduous process. Eventually he became strong but when he realized that without the black magic of this man he would fail again to his deathly state he broke and succumbed to the temptation of life under fear of death.
Eventually he overcame the man and killed the witchdoctor and used the black magic himself, with which he has been able to sustain his life all these years.
He spent those years perfecting a form of mind control through the dark arts, torture, and manipulation. This is how he builds his army.
He realizes that young minds are far more susceptible so he steals teens and after the brainwashing is done he loads them up on steroids. This makes them grow unnaturally strong and muscular, fight with a blind rage, and become nearly immune to pain. As well as causes the mutations.
He lived in peace for a long time, but when he realized the kings of the land had abandoned his creed he began to plot. He waited another generation... And another, in hopes that they would turn back to the old ways. But the evil had poisoned his mind and he thought he was serving the people by creating an army to destroy the kingdom and "brining it back to the ancient creed."
Skolleos can not be swayed and fighting ensues. Nathaniel, Mirasha, the other young Knight, and two of Nathaniel's best men (one is Slade) fight off and kill all Lord Skull's men.
Nathaniel sacrifices himself, in multiple occasions, to save someone else from an injury. In the end he is bleeding, bruised, and dying. All his companions safe and him still standing between them and Lord Skull with Mirasha at his side.
At this point Skolleos sees in Nathaniel a true nature as to that of which he maintained when he was king.
"A king shall live for the people, fight for the people, and die for the people," he mutters softly. "I see now... I could not fulfill my own creed. I was not willing to die for my people. By my own twisted purpose I have now become a target of assassination to myself."
At this he turns back in repentance, destroys his tools of black magic, and with them himself and his entire army fades away in wisps of smoke.
The army returns, beaten down and barely able to stand in the presence of their queen whom meets them half way between their fight and the castle, clad in armor for battle with the few remaining men of the kingdom.
"Nathaniel!" Jezallia exclaims, seeing his condition. She dismounts her horse and runs over to him. She pauses momentarily to examine Mirasha, grabbing her hands and looking into her eyes for a split second. Satisfied Mirasha is relatively unharmed, she then rushes to Nathaniel's side as Slade and the young knight lay him down. Jezallia shakes her head, fear flooding her eyes and competing with the tears that trickle down her cheeks. "You foolish... Brave man."
Nathaniel looks up at her. "What on earth are you doing in armor?" He asks, a scolding tone in his voice. Jezallia glares at him, slightly taken aback.
"We came to save you," she shot back while rummaging through he pack for her medical supplies. "We didn't know what had happened! You could have all been captured... Or... Dead!"
Nathaniel grins and closes his eyes with a slight wince as Jezallia begins tending to his wounds and replacing his bandages.
"We come out here, ready to fight along side you as your code instructs," Jezallia continues as she wraps his injuries with hasty and rough motions. "And all you say to me is, 'What on earth are you doing in armor?'" Jezallia gives her last wrap a good jerk, pulls it tight and ties it.
At the contentions between the two of them Mirasha, Slade, and the others move away, giving them some space and tending to their own minor injuries.
At her roughly tied knot Nathaniel cringes, moaning with pain.
Jezallia's stern demeanor crumbles at his face. Her resolve to stay upset at him running like sand through a sifter. "I'm so sorry!" She apologizes. "I didn't mean to hurt you." She says, a hand over her mouth and her forehead wrinkled with concern.
Nathaniel opens one eye wide, the other squinting to nearly closed. "Good..." He says hesitantly. "Because you didn't." He grins widely.
At this Jezallia flushes with embarrassment and gasps. "You..." She lifts a hand to smack him on the chest, only just catching herself before she strikes his injured form. She sighs and gives him a perturbed, yet playful look.
"So what were you doing?" Nathaniel asks again.
"Upholding the code of the kingdom," Jezallia says, trying to seem casual about it.
"The code says that a king lives, fights, and dies for the people," Nathaniel points out. "Never says anything about the queen. Besides..." He says, looking up at her with soft eyes. "I'd rather you put off that whole dying business for at least another sixty years or more."
Jezallia smiles and looks down at him. "Well," she says, placing her medical supplies back in her bag. "I guess you will just have to stick around and watch over me to make sure I don't do anything reckless."
Nathaniel chuckles, then moans a bit at the pain it ensues. "I guess so..." He stairs up into Jezallia's eyes for a long moment.
Mirasha watches intently from a distance.
Nathaniel smiles wearily, the look on his face seeming almost as if he were remembering fond memories of times long past. Slowly he lifts his hand towards Jezallia's cheek but stops an inch away from her face. He looks at his blood covered hand. He dare not blotch her perfect complexion.
Jezallia stairs back at him, her heart pounding so loud she is sure everyone in their company could hear it. Slowly she reaches up, putting her small hand on the back of Nathaniel's and pressing his palm against her cheek.
Nathaniel closes his eyes for a brief moment, a single tear escaping from the corner of his eye as he gently pulls Jezallia's head down to him. He brings her head right to his and whispers softly in her ear, "I love you."
Jezallia exhales nervously, feeling as though the air were knocked out of her as tears start streaming uncontrollably. She smiles fondly and looks into his eyes. "I know." With that she leans in and kisses him gently on the lips.
Mirasha, who is still watching from her seat near the other men, stairs on, wide eyed. A large smile stretches over her face and she looks away to give the two their privacy.
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