CHAPTER I: The Depths of Madness
Not a word is spoken from the warrior as he stands alone in the burnt ashes of his kingdom. And only one thing rings through his mind: Another survivor, if there was such a thing, that person must be found and nursed back to health.
Balengoth ran about in his graveyard of a kingdom, searching desperately for any and all survivors. Not a soul left. Not a sound other than nature and the fallen of burnt walls off of formerly beautiful buildings. The town can be rebuilt, the fields can be replanted, but only if there is life left worth rebuilding for. An entire day of searching. An entire day of denial. An entire day of hope. An single midnight of complete disappointment.
Balengoth finally gives up his search, not by choice, but becuase his body is too weak to continue searching. He falls and wishes only one thing, that he had not survived this. His mind drifts back to the demon that caused this horror, Vegalik.
Once the greatest of the Kingdom's elites, now the creator of it's undoing. Vegalik was as popular as Balengoth, in but that Vegalik had finally become the stronger of the two. His loyalty to his kingdom as great as his power. But he held not nearly as much love towards the people of his kingdom as Balengoth. Balengoth thought of Vegalik as a rival, a leader, but among all other things: A Friend.
It was unbelievable to hear the name of his greatest friend called out as the leader of an army of warriors attacking the very kingdom they once stood for. It was not until Balengoth was met by Vegalik at his own inferno engulfed home that he came to believe who it was that would destroy their kingdom.
Balengoth's mind drifted through his thoughts. He should have had more power, he should have gone instead of Vegalik, he should have protected his family and friends. But above all else, he should have stopped Vegalik and let his friend rest in peace. The voice, the body, even the blades the demon Vegalik had wielded were nothing like that of his friend's. But it was just being near him, he could feel it. There was no mistake, it was his friend indeed.
Balengoth, as a child, was told of how Friendship is the greatest and most unbreakable sword ever to be forged. And that it could weather even the greatest of hellfires if forged properly. Vegalik was told the very same story. How could the greatest Champion become the greatest threat to a kingdom? How could loyalty turn to madness? How could this be allowed to happen?
Madness, Malice, Depression, Balengoth was now a victim of all of them. He began to walk through his once glorious kingdom. Half-Dazed, half-alive, and Half-Mad. Not a single life, not even a child's, was spared. Again Balengoth collapsed, grasping at the ground. The moment he had awoke, he had tried to believe this was all a dream. He tried, but he was not successful. You do not wake into a dream after falling asleep in another. Nor could any dream or even idea be this painful, this cruel, and this mercyless. Madness is an interesting word, it starts with the emotion "mad". And Mad, or rather enraged, Balengoth was indeed.
Hope was gone, he had given up even the idea that anyone could have survived this. So there was only one question left. If no one else had survived, why did he try to? For that matter, why DID he survive? He grabbed the hilt of his now broken "Greater Life" and thrust it into his chest. Thoughts flash though his mind as his blade seems to take hours to reach his chest. His mind shows up the very destruction of his own kingdom, but this madness will soon end. The blade draws closer to his chest, hours seem to pass as Balengoth's mind shows him seemingly every detail of his kingdom's demise. Even that which he should know be able to see. The blade is finally about to touch his chest. One final image flashes. Half of the image is half the face of his friend Vegalik. The other half of the image is half the face of his destroyer Vegalik. The image flashs, his mind along with it. The blade touchs his chest, but does not go through, Balengoth stopped the thrust, his life is not yet over.
Balengoth stands once more, and looks outward at his fallen kingdom. It seems "Greater Life" had actually held up to the myth of it being able to heal a man's soul if it slashed. Balengoth discarded the broken blade, it had already served it's purpose, it had reassured him this is his fate to control. Vegalik is all that is left that is from this kingdom, Vegalik and every follower under him. Becuase Balengoth died with his kingdom.
Not a word is spoken from the warrior as he stands alone in the burnt ashes of his kingdom. And only one thing rings through his mind: Another Victim, there is such a potential, and that person must meet the same fate as the rest; Death by the hands of a Kalemdire Citizen.