THE TALE OF THE FIRST KING

As I turn around my neck with my curiosity to see who it is, as I don’t recognize the voice . . . oh, my goodness! It’s one of the commanders. I met her eyes, a luminous round but beautiful like the full moon! Lady Commander Carmae the Eerie!

On my left back of my skull, I could feel a pointy sharp blade already cut some of my spiky hair. I see some thread fell, its bite wounded the skin of my head. I could feel the sting of it of its sharpness. And anytime and any spare, it could break through my head like a watermelon.

It’s another Lady Commander Nancy, the Time Heist Girl! I couldn’t turn to her as I’m afraid she might pierce my head. So I didn’t move an inch, and all I could see are the crystal crossbeams in her chest hanging like piano bars. Besides, she doesn’t have the beauty that I’ll be attracted to look at her.

“My apologies, my commanders. I don’t even know that I did that,” I said, beneath my teeth.

They can see in my countenance that I don’t know for myself that it happened. So they withdraw their weapons from pointing at me.

I thought I’m gonna die. Blood runs through down to my neck from the wound in my head, but I brush it as they didn’t even care about it.

Then my very own Commander Fritz bumps in and says, “My commanders, forgive me, you may pardon my legionnaire. He is only exhausted from the training, I tell you. It’s because I’ve loaded him with tasks as he is one of my A-list legionnaires.”

I saw their eyes frowned a little bit. They want to hide their decry in pointing their swords at me and almost killed me!

“I will take responsibility as it is my fault,” Lord Fritz finishes his apology.

He saved me! Thank goodness.

“Take care and always supervise your underlings, Lord Fritz,” Lady Commander Carmae says with dismay.

Then they disappear from circling me, leaving their killing intents behind. I know it’s the ‘zero hour’ teleportation. That only a commander can use to fly to any location within the kingdom.

My legs begin to feel numb, and my bones feel like whippy. I’m not feeling it. I’m a little dizzy too. My sight is puzzling; my breathing is getting heavy. Before I know it I pass out.

I unclosed my eyes and pick up where I can remember.

Right! I need to apologize for what I did though it was unpremeditated, and I need to thank Commander Fritz. But I couldn’t move a muscle. The light is stinging my eyes as I open my sight rashly. The pain shuts my eyes back to darkness. So I open my vision again slowly, and as I see my surroundings. I am at the healing charter.

Well, I don’t need to go to Lord Fritz’s office as he is sitting on my left side. Glaring down at me—ready to scold me.

“Oh, you’re awake,” he says with a tired tone.

How long he has been here?

“Forgive me, my lord.” My lips want to atone faster.

But he cuts me off, with his hand gestured in front of my face, “Me first.”

As I halt my words, he pulled his hand back.

“I understand more than you do. It’s my fault. It was me who appointed you to spar with all your brigade mates, so you don’t have to apologize. I will set a different legionnaire more capable than you,” Commander Fritz says.

Then he gets up and gets out of the room. And I am left sulking.

I lose the opportunity to meet with the king. It is supposed to be my trump card as I am hand-picked by the commander as a candidate to be a commander when the time comes. But never mind that. I’ll find a different way.

But what happened back there? Why did I pass out? I can’t remember at all.

I heard three knocks on the door. And it opens up, and there enter my three childhood best friends: Dennis, Lester, and Christian. My eyes widen like a plate as I see them because it’s been a while now that I’ve seen them! Even one person is missing among them . . . well, never mind.

I frown as I see Christian carrying flowers as if I’m dead. What a crazy guy. And Dennis and Lester brought some food. I know what’s next. Like in the movie that I’ve watched from archaic age archives. This will be a sad conversation about how am I feeling. So I let them talk and ask any questions about what happened.

I slip my stare outside the window and let my mind wander outside.

I’ve regained my strength, and it was some weeks have ceded. I find myself standing in the line. Wearing my dark suit armor carved with the Chamenos crest on my left chest. A shield crafted in it with a shining blue scales. I stand with pride though listening to the boring vitalizing speech again that is always hailed to us by the Lord Commander Alvin.

I’m determined to practice and surmount my power.

As soon as we went to our brigade’s alcove I begin training, but I’ll be very careful this time so that what happened last time won’t happen again.

I unsheathe my blade from my back and have a closer look at my cherub sword. Mine is an unknown and nothing special one. It’s a typical looking long sword that I can wield and swing with a single hand. Above the hilt, there’s an ancient line like a circling crest. The blade has three symbols crafted up until the pointy edge. Another sort of open diamond lines on the near point of the blade. These lines shine like stars in the night when flame ablaze on my blade.

All legionnaires possessed a cherub sword. For without it, they can’t uncloak their grace. This would go back in time, about a tale that we are not sure if it’s a made-up one or true. The tales say that when the ‘two sons’ of the ‘First King’ began to conquer the world, they were the only ones at that time who possessed ‘grace’ as they inherited it from their father, the first King.

‘Grace’ is the power every human being possessed now. It flows in the blood of men in this ‘Era of Kings’ and aches to be unleashed. This great power can only be vent and unleash using a ‘Cherub Sword’. By that, it gives birth to unimaginable and formidable power.

‘Uncloak’ is the name of calling forth the grace that’s trapped within. And letting it flow through a cherub sword.

That old tale said that the ‘First Son’ became the ‘White King’, and the ‘Second Son’ then became the ‘Dark King’. They shared their powers with other humans. Thus grace has become an inheritance to all humanity who is about to be born.

A cherub sword is the only substance that can harness a human’s grace. And without it, grace is trapped in a human body and will never be uncloaked its glory.

As the war goes on to all kingdoms, they craft with their brilliant blacksmith skills on their own. A weapon—they have devised cherub swords of their own that can uncloak a power that is fueled by grace.

Wielding a cherub sword is easier said than done. The grace of a man must sink to the sword, and the blade should deem the man who wields it as worthy. Otherwise, the cherub sword will not submit to the wielder’s will and uncloak its grace. Thus, the sword becomes mere steel to those who wield but not chosen by the sword.

As soon as a child is born and when he reaches the age of seven, he or she must be either be given a cherub sword or find a destined one, or a sword must find or choose his wielder. Or else you can’t become a legionnaire to fight for the war of the kingdoms.

If any man who lives without wielding a cherub sword, their life has become vain in the kingdom. So they will become a grace sacrifice to the kingdom as they don’t wield and own a cherub sword.

They will be locked up to the ‘Sacrificial Guardroom’. A room cast with a spell of the king that sucks a man’s grace and reuses it to fortify the kingdom. Every man locked up in there will wither and get every fiber of their grace drained—until they die.

To those children who found their cherub swords, they will be sent to the legionnaires brigades to start the training at such a young age to activate grace and uncloak the nature of their power and discover their own glory that could serve as a weapon for war. Then they spend the rest of their lives cultivating and to be cast-iron for the sake of the Kingdom.

Our kingdom has done an excellent job. They have fathered monsters and merciless human weapons who can fight for the kingdom of Chamenos.

And I am one of them.