Prologue

Smoke rises to the sky from different locations in the outer and inner city of Casia. The screams of women and children, can be heard above the sounds of conflagration.

The street is littered with the bodies of massacred soldiers, all bearing the emblem of the King of Casia, little gullies of blood run through the ravaged streets, from the bodies of men, women, children and animals alike. In the midst of all the chaos, a horse in golden armour struts through the street, undeterred by the carnage. On it’s back, sits a rider in golden armour who urges the gentle beast forward while he surveys the damage done to the kingdom.

The wailing women instantly become quiet, lowering their heads as the man in the golden armour rides past them, the crying children hide behind their mothers’ skirts.  They don’t meet his gaze, the ones that are brave enough to do so cower instantly, shivering uncontrollably, as through the slit in his helmet, they see his cold gold eyes, the eyes of the devil himself.  He pulls the reins of his horse, bringing the majestic beast to a stop at the bottom of the marble steps of the Casian Royal Palace. He pulls the golden helmet off his head, revealing locks of golden hair, he stops for a moment to admire the large columns that hold the roof of the Palace, thoroughly enchanted by the beauty of the architecture. He is pulled out of his musing by his Generals who rally before him and lead him into the palace of the conquered Kingdom, after he dismounts from his horse.

The palace, which is more exquisite on the inside as it is on the outside, impresses the man in the golden armour who sits himself on the throne, he listens and watches with a bored look on his face at the commotion, as the King of Casia and his family are dragged out and arrayed before him on their knees. With a wave of his hand, the whole family is executed at the same time, hacked to death with the swords of the Generals. They are all beheaded, King, Queen, Princes and Princesses, their heads taken out to be hung on sticks for all the remaining survivors of the land to see.

The man in the golden armour takes the white cloth given to him by the older man standing by his side, to wipe the specks of blood off his face. This man is dressed in a silver armour, similar in design and structure, his white hair tied in a bun, his white beard, braided. He has a good 35 years on the golden armored man but he bows respectfully before him and only stands to his full height when he is told to rise.

“Emperor Jin, the men are ready to match on the next kingdom. We only await your orders.” His voice is gravelly from the years of many battle cries on the battle field.

“As much as I would like to march on Dion as soon as possible, I feel a new approach is needed. We have been attacking our enemies using the same tactics, we have become…predictable and I would like to change that.” The Emperor says, his voice much cooler than his general’s, his accent distinct.

“As you wish, my Lord.” The general bows.

“But one cannot deliberate on an empty stomach, have the men bring something for me to eat.”

The General barks an order to a soldier standing by, a meal is brought from the kitchen, served in the dead King’s platter and wine served in his golden goblet. The Emperor eats the assorted dish while blood continues to seep out of the rapidly cooling bodies on the floor.

When all the diplomacy is concluded, a new Governor appointed for the conquered Kingdom, the Emperor and his Generals trot up the hill on their horses, where they can see the city of Dion. Wind whips the golden locks of the Emperor’s hair as he watches the next city in line to be conquered, while the sun set. His General sidles up next to him.

His golden armour gleams, the rays of the setting sun make it seem like his locks are on fire.

“They will see the smoke and they will know we are coming, they will be waiting for us. We won’t strike yet, I want them to wait until they are sick with dread and anticipation from the sound of our war drums as we make our way to their city gates. Dion is a stronghold in this region, conquering it is our top priority. Make sure they do not see our line of attack until we are on them.”

The Emperor turns his steed around and spurs it on, heading for the camp.