Snippet #2772999

For some people, life is chosen for them.

Zerel was one such person. From his birth, it had been nothing less than destiny that gave him his current position. That of Simtar. Simtar Zerel Akara, to be a little more precise. It was his father's doing, of course, and his great acts. In that, Zerel had made his own decision to be just as his father.

So it was that a fair few peculiarities were shared with the legendary Saladin Akara; most notably that both men had the gifts of both Warriors and Sorcerers. A rare occurrence that, to share both skills. Even rarer was for two generations in succession to have such a person, rarest was for it to be in the same family. But then, the Akara family were not known for being the most normal of the Kelante people.

Zerel was a slip of a man, nearly eleven years of age. Despite his youth, he held wisdom and skill beyond most in the three factions of the now scarred planet - The Warrior's Guild, The Guild of Sorcerers, and The Guardians. Of course, given his heritage, Zerel was bestowed as leader of each of the three, as was Saladin.

Standing at a rather tall five foot three inches, well, tall for his age, he held signs of great strength, possessing a well toned, compacted physique that was comparable to his father's at that age. His hair was long, having not been cut since the day he was born of human woman, Miyumi, and the light brown strands fell to just above his knee, perfectly smooth and straight.

For many children, the death of one parent, followed by the swiftly consequential death of the other, would have been enough to force them to their knees in despair. But, for Zerel, it was a completely different case in this situation. It drove him to further carry on the legacy both had laid the foundations of before him. As such, he was respected and obeyed.

Right now, however, he was in no mood for pleasantries, nor would reminiscences be useful in the slightest. This was the first opportunity for Zerel to prove himself, for himself, and by himself. His training from the day he could take his first steps would be shown in the coming days. He had, of course, been in many battles, but none would be quite as important as this. It was a grim, determined expression that painted the face of the young man making his final preparations for war.

The Homeless had been removed, for the most part, by his father, so all that was needed was a minimal military presence in the outermost villages and towns. The rest of all the Warriors, Sorcerers and Guardians were stood behind Zerel.

Wrapped around his body was the white attire Saladin wore for ceremonious occasions, re-tailored to fit the boy's physique. White silken material, cut in a traditional Mandarin style, with golden cloth buckles. A cape of white, the trim of the same gold as the buckles, it blew in the gentle breeze of a Kelantan summer. Of course, prepared for battle, he wore not just the silk. Beneath his shirt was a plate of lightweight material, nigh on impenetrable, and his forearms were protected by gauntlets of white. On his left hip was a sword. It was a perfect replica of the one his father had fought with, only it was more proportionate to the boy. A golden hilt, perfect in representing a dragon, and a pristinely crafted, elegantly curved blade that was razor sharp. Although, obviously, these were not his only weapons and defences.

Thankfully, Miyumi had found a way to keep Fred active without electricity, so the events happening on Zerel's mother's home, and the place his father had considered a second home, were constantly being relayed to Kelante. Fred was the AI created by Miyumi, and with a replica being in position on both planets; Terra and Kelante, it was not a signal of any sort being sent to Fred on Kelante, but more like he was simply looking through his other set of eyes. Telepathy would probably be the best description.

Either way, had it not been for Fred, this day would not be here. Situated on the barren lands that was the scar on the planet, was over ninety five percent of all the Kelante military force.

Raising a hand, Zerel began to channel Saidin. It was something taught to him by none other than his father, yet Zerel had actually been stronger than Saladin, so his next feat would be of very little bother. Suddenly, surrounding his body, was what seemed to be wispy clouds, encircling him in a cyclone of sorts, one that spiralled upwards unceasingly. However, it was just a sign of a tiny proportion of his power. As the cyclone increased in velocity and intensity, it was as though, suddenly, without warning, Zerel had absorbed it. His body was now aglow with that same white, utterly pure, luminance.

Suddenly then, a tall, narrow, vertical beam of light appeared some distance in front of the massive army. Slowly, it began to turn, much like a door opening, slowly revealing another world. Zerel had been told of the technology of Terra, and had seen the events come to pass recently on the planet. So, he knew that his Gateway had worked perfectly. As soon as the Gateway gave the impression of snapping open, the Sorcerers and Guardians, standing behind their young and powerful leader, got to work in casting spells that would offer protection for the moment. Low chanting could be heard as a rumble, as they spoke incantations of power.

It was time.

He had an obligation to these people, as son of Saladin and Miyumi Akara. He would, just as both his parents would have done, stand by that obligation, and put all else on the line.

"This is commander Zephyr of the Crimson Knights requesting all people who do not wish to fight to escape the city. Move quickly, as in five minuets all forces will scan for any people. Those with a firearm will be killed, those without will be taken into Knight control until this conflict is over. Our armed forces are already outside the city, please be quick and evacuate or risk death."

As the signal, the lowering of his hand, was given for the Kelantan forces to move through the Gateway, those words were heard by Zerel. The Gateway was a great skill to possess, it was no form of teleportation, or warp, or wormhole. It was, in all essence, a folding of the Universe, utilising the male half of the True Source, Saidin. Where the Gateway opened, there was no space between each location, save for that one step.

So it was, still aglow, Zerel allowed his own voice to bellow through the air, using his power to push it outwards, an illusion given that it was coming from everywhere all at once:

"You think, my dear friend, that I will allow you to do such things? You are gravely mistaken, and will indeed find your grave this day."

The massive armies of Kelante moved onwards, Zerel at their head, making their way towards the city. Near on a total of one million troops, not including the council heads. Those that governed the three Guilds along with Zerel, they were acting as rear guard.

It was a mistake these Crimson Knights had made. Simtar Saladin Akara had been here, and he had sworn to protect this place. Now, even in his death, that oath would be honoured.