Vokar walked boldly to the steps of the throne. Mara walked behind him a bit more cautiously. But at the steps she stood proudly next to Vokar.
“I am Vokar, and Destiny is my power. She brings me to Soci for I am to rule the Island,” Vokar announced.
The king looked down on the slight but evil looking Vokar. Demis was a sharp contrast to Vokar. He was a bearded, blue-eyed, brawny man with the look of a man who had seen many skirmishes both mental and physical. He was a formidable looking man. Vokar stared intently at the king causing Demis to turn his head quickly for he felt his blood freezing. Vokar tossed a wary glance at the two wizards; they did not acknowledge his glance.
“Kam, go to the gates and tell me what you see on the last panel,” Demis ordered one of his two bodyguards.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” the guard answered.
“And be swift about it.”
The guard ran out of the throne room.
“Now we shall see what Destiny brings us,” Demis said to Vokar. “We shall see if it is the new ruler of Soci or if it is some lowly scum.”
Vokar tensed but did nothing. Mara could not help wondering why Vokar had not just disintegrated the king and his consorts. Little did she know that Vokar was employing every power he had, but not in his usual flashy way. Little did she know that, at this instant, forces with unimaginable power were clashing like great swords. And that even though the battle was great, Destiny had already decided the ending. Vokar no longer controlled himself. The forces had taken over, and through him and within him they were battling equally powerful forces from an unknown place. Vokar could not tell what he was fighting so he kept his unceasing stare on the king. The king moved uncomfortably within his chair and threw nervous glances at Vokar and his two wizards. He noticed, to his dismay, that the two wizards had turned their backs to Vokar and were clasping arms. He also noticed that his second guard was dead but remained standing only by the grace of some higher force.
As the time passed the king became even more restless and he kept wondering where the fleet-footed guard had disappeared to. Finally, the guard returned. He was breathing hard for he had run all the way.
“What did you see?” the king asked. He leaned forward in his throne in apprehension.
“I saw a man, a woman, a child and—”
The king cut him off with a nervous question.
“Were there faces on the man, woman, and child?”
“Yes.”
“Who were they?” the king asked quickly.
The guard looked at the king and shrugged his shoulders. Impatient with the guard the king pointed at Vokar and Mara.
“Were their faces on the panel?” the king asked.
“Yes, it was them but there was also—” the guard stopped speaking. He fell to the ground dead.
The king pushed a tear back because he had raised both of these guards. Then he slowly looked at Vokar and addressed him, “Well, Destiny does bring you, my dear Vokar. For only if it were meant for you to take over would the faces appear on the panels of the Gates of Destiny”
Vokar smiled but never stopped his concentration. He probably could not have stopped even if he had wanted to. Destiny would not allow him to stop until he had achieved his goal. The battle, however, was not an easy one so Vokar kept tuned to Demis in hope of finding out where this power he was battling was coming from.
Demis continued, “Yes, you will take over, and I will be killed, probably sooner than you realize. Had it not been for my protection you would have killed me at the same time you killed my guards. But I have good protection, but not good enough to save me. My barriers are old and can no longer protect me against the new forces. I am sure you want to know what these forces are. Well, I will tell you in due time, for who am I to stand in the way of Destiny any longer than need be?”
Vokar was sweating profusely. He was releasing every power he had ever learned, but nothing penetrated the king. Then one of the wizards in orange fell to the ground. The smell of death wafted quickly throughout the throne room.
“You are winning,” the king said as he laughed. He grabbed up a goatskin of wine and began guzzling the rich red liquid. “I’m sure you realized that you were not fighting me or any power that I wield. You are fighting the two greatest wizards of the Island. Excuse me, now it’s one. They are my spiritual bodyguards. They have been the spiritual bodyguards of every king since Soci began. They have lived since before the beginning and they gave the powers to the special wizards of the land. They are the gods of the Island. The true gods, for they existed before the Island. Now they die. Even gods can die. Yes, Vokar, Destiny brought you here to replace me, and I accept that with only a little sadness for me and a lot of sadness for the Island. But Destiny has also pulled a great, ironic joke on you, and for that I must lift my wineskin to my mouth.” The king drank heartily, and continued, “You have killed one of the Island gods, and the other is on the wane. Once he dies I will go quickly and you shall be ruler of this great palace and this great country, but you shall never rule the Island for your reign will not last long,” Vokar clenched his fist and concentrated harder. King Demis continued, “You see you will be the last ruler of Soci—at your death Soci and all mankind will perish from the Island. I know this because the Gates of Destiny tell the entire history of Soci, and also foretell the future to a point. The Gates show how many rulers there will be in the future, but do not reveal their faces. The faces appear only when the future ruler enters Mea, as you did. But, as Destiny decrees, the last panel also signifies the end of Soci and the Island.”
Vokar, sweating and stiff with concentration, finally spoke, “It may signify the end of Soci, for I will take over the Island and probably do away with the Socians.”
“No,” the king answered softly, “you will do nothing of the kind for you and the woman and child are not the last figures on the last panel.”
Vokar shook with surprise. Mara looked at the king quickly for she was watching and listening intently to all that was happening.
The king expounded with a little amusement, “There is another figure behind you, and he stands very close. I’m sure his face has not been filled yet, but he is on his way and he will be the end of you and with the end of you, the Island and mankind will die. This I know, for he is the only armed figure in all the panels. He brings total destruction to the Island. Well, actually Destiny brings him for it is time for another era to begin. Shall I tell you what he looks like? Yes, I think I shall. His body is great and powerful with massive muscles that remain flexed. And upon his giant shoulders rest locks of wavy hair. You know, Vokar, I have traveled much and I have only seen one man with a body such as the one in the panel. When I met him we fought side by side on the other side of the Island. His recklessness and my style got us through many a battle and many a woman. Now, however, we are neighboring kings. Destiny made me save him from the mercenary army you sent to kill him. I don’t think he even knows that I am king of Soci, for he never believed me when I told him. He was so superstitious that he thought only wizards controlled Soci. I’m sure you know who I mean—King Zenak.”
Mara screamed and fell to her knees while she squeezed the prince tightly. Vokar went white with rage and intensified his concentration on the king with renewed vigor, but he still could not reach the king. Demis smiled and sat very calmly on his throne. He looked at his old wizard and could tell the god was losing his battle with Vokar, and quickly.
“Know the fellow, Zenak?” Demis asked sarcastically.
Vokar, now red with rage, turned all his thoughts on the old god and within seconds, the old man fell to the ground cracking open his skull. No blood came out, though, for it had dried up thousands of years earlier and only the great mind of the man had kept him animated. He had lost because even powers get old and he could not fight Vokar’s new cosmic powers.
Demis looked at the old men and looked at his dead guards sprawled on the floor. “It shall not be h
ard to kill me for I am no wizard. The king never is. Wizards detest the kingly life. I loved it.”
“You shall die an excruciating death,” Vokar said hatefully.
“Believe me, it won’t be anywhere near as terrible as yours,” the king answered. He laughed out loud.
Then his laughter stopped short and the throne room was filled with a blue light. When it faded King Demis was on the floor. He was ripping at himself, filling his nails with blood and skin. The blood ran in hundreds of small streams onto the cold ivory floor. Then he began to stiffen and slowly bend backward. He kept bending until his head touched his toes and his screams penetrated the walls of the palace like needles through skin.
Mara stared at the king as he writhed on the floor. She put down the prince and quickly let her silks drop to the floor. Then she began passionately caressing herself by squeezing her pert breasts with one hand and skillfully exciting her sexual passions with her other hand. The screams from Demis and the moans from Mara were a strange and satanic-sounding chorus. Vokar looked on amused.
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it my pretty?” Vokar asked Mara. Mara looked at Vokar and nodded her head slightly. “Yes, for your never-ending passions it has been a long time. Take him, Mara, he’s yours.”
Like a savage animal Mara jumped on Demis and began fulfilling her sexual desires on his now deformed body. Mara’s moans and Demis’s screams were marred only by the snapping of Demis’s spinal column; then only Mara’s moans continued.
After Mara had taken Demis, Vokar left the throne room and went to the king’s bedroom. From the balcony of the bedroom much of Soci and Mea could be seen. Vokar studied the area and decided this would be a good place from which to take over the kingdom. He sat down on the soft mark skin pillows that were placed on the balcony.
He raised his face to the sky and began an intense siege of concentration. For a long while nothing happened; then a blue mist began settling on the land. At first it was hardly noticeable, but as the hours passed it thickened until all of Soci was covered with thick, blue fog.
The castle wizards felt it first. Because the fog disrupted their abilities to control their environments, they suspended their specialized powers of concentration and sent the purple demon back to Varsoula. They no longer needed him. Then they went as a group to the center chamber of the castle and waited in meditation for the end. When the blue fog had finally settled, all other living beings, plants and animals, had stopped moving, stopped growing, stopped living. With the aid of the blue fog, Vokar sent his very thoughts into the brains of all the living things. He reached into their subconscious and gave the people and even the animals his ambitions, his love, and his many hates and desires. He took from them their ambitions and placed in them only one ambition: the ambition of Vokar to succeed. Before he lifted the blue fog, he gave a final order. He ordered every Socian and any other intelligent animal to be on the alert for Zenak. He ordered them to capture Zenak at all costs and to bring him to the palace chained to an iron cross. Finally, he recited an incantation from a language that had been nonexistent for thousands of years and drew from the deepest pits of Varsoula the most evil, the most terrifying demons that had ever roamed the Island before the two great wizards, lying dead in the throne room, had exiled them to Varsoula. They were the dark demons of the early universe and each was a deadly disease to all who loved and lived for the good of man and the good of the Island. The demons flew in the sky above the palace and Vokar ordered them to the borders of Soci so they could watch out for Zenak. They were ordered to bring Zenak to the palace chained to a cross. No one else was to be harmed, for Vokar felt in a generous mood. Then Vokar lifted the blue fog and allowed the rising sun to cast its life-giving light on the land.
When the morning came, all was the same in the kingdom of Soci. On the outside nothing had changed but inwardly everything had been destroyed, perverted, and restrained by Vokar’s creative annihilation. Vokar was not life; he was another dimension of death. He was the death of soul, of love, of creativity, and of change. Vokar knew that any creativity in a man’s mind would create dissonance in him and spread in a society. He knew that he had to appear to be the only leader to progress, the only man of creativity. When he lifted his blue fog, he also lifted from the Socians the ability to think. Thereafter, they were only mechanical humans caught up in a routine and controlled by Vokar. On the outside, life did not seem to change, at least day-to-day life. But inside each person, dreams of better things no longer existed. Dreams of love and adventure no longer existed. All that existed was day-to-day living. No other inventions, no other great works of art were ever to come from the Socians. They had been put into a routine and stifled.
Yes, the sunrise was beautiful and its rays fell upon the almighty ruler of Soci, Vokar. But the same rays also fell on a frightened little man. Why was not his figure the last figure on the panel? Who was the fighter behind him? Was it Zenak? Was Zenak the final end? The demons of black Varsoula were patrolling the borders of Soci and a whole kingdom was on the lookout for Zenak. No, Zenak could not be the final ending. But then who was this figure? Vokar could think no more and being quite drained from a night of concentration he rose stiffly and went to King Demis’s silks and furs where he fell down exhausted from a weary night of worry and concentration.
Chapter 14
When Zenak rode out of Gaston his only desire was to drive his blade through Vokar’s heart. And even though he had no direct proof, Zenak knew that Vokar was responsible for the insanity that took place in Gaston. He knew that Vokar was a cancer that had to be stopped or it would spread to the rest of the Island quickly. [It is interesting that even before dinosaurs, man was plagued by the same dread disease we now have—S.A.] For the entire day after escaping Gaston, Zenak rode his mark hard and fast. He rode into the next night, but was forced to stop because his mark was faltering and was obviously tired.
Zenak’s hatred of Vokar and love for Mara kept him wide-awake.
The night was cool and relaxing and Zenak felt his tired, but restless muscles relax on the soft, grassy ground when he lay down. He also needed a rest. Rising majestically above Zenak was the great Volski. It stood above Zenak in stark power. Its snow-capped, jagged peaks glistened in the moonlight. On the other side of this vast mountain lay the fertile lands of Soci and in the middle of Soci sat the capital of Mea. Only one mountain blocked Zenak’s entrance. But the Volski was formidable and extremely difficult to hike and climb across.
Zenak looked down in the valley below him and fixed his attention on the field of a great battle that had occurred only days before. To Zenak, however, the battle seemed to have occurred many years ago. He felt that his life had changed and that his youth had been demolished in the last few days. He felt age, like never before, was marching him down the aisle of life quicker and with less sympathy. He lay back and looked at the star-speckled sky; his mind wondered aimlessly from thought to thought, but it seemed always to come back to the same question. What had Vokar done to his beloved Mara? What had happened to his only son? Not being able to rest with these thoughts, Zenak rose quickly, saddled his not-quite-rested mark, and proceeded to Mea. He had to reach Vokar and do away with him.
Looming in front of Zenak, the Volski looked down on the ex-king; Zenak knew that the crossing was going to be a hard one.
He also knew he could expect an attack from a pack of pones. A pone was a small, fist-sized, white, furry animal with jaws like a steel trap and the speed of the mountain winds. It could tear the jugular vein from a man before his hand could even reach his sword. The terror of the mountains was one of the pone’s names; the wind of the mountains was another name given the pone. The latter name was because it usually struck only when the winds were blowing swiftly and whipping up the snow on the mountain, a condition that would reduce its victim’s vision and increase the pone’s chance at a meal.
The winds, however, were quiet and the road into the mountains was
an easy one; at least up to the timberline. After the timberline, which was barely half way up the mountain, a treacherous path took its place. There was a better and safer road to Soci that went around the mountain and took a month to travel, even at the quickest pace. The path over the mountain, assuming one had good weather and also the hiker was in good shape, took only a full day to reach the borders of Soci. Zenak, of course, did not want to waste the time so he took the shorter but infinitely more dangerous route. Zenak also knew that he had a chance at the crossing because legend had it that one person could cross the mountain with little difficulty. But if any more than three people tried to cross the Volski instead of taking the longer route, the weather on the mountain would turn into a raging storm with winds that would whip even a mark off its feet and into one of the many bottomless crevices that crisscrossed the Volski. It took only a few hours of hard riding for Zenak to reach the timberline and the foot-path. The path was slippery and one wrong step would lead to the death of Zenak and his mark. A slip to the left and they would fall into one of the dangerous crevasses. A slip to the right would send tons of ice and snow crashing upon them. Their position was precarious. Zenak had dismounted his mark and was proceeding at the fastest pace he could go. Any other man would have called Zenak reckless, but his sure-footedness made up for his reckless speed on the icy path. He also knew that his mark was sure footed enough not to make any mistakes.
The climb to the peak of the trail was demanding and treacherous. Even though the mark was sure footed, Zenak had his doubts of the mark’s ability to get up the trail that sometimes angled at sixty degrees. But every doubt was extinguished as the mark nimbly followed Zenak up the slopes.
Even with the trials of the climb and the sick worry that was eating at his love-stained heart, Zenak could not help but be in awe at the fantastic view that was afforded him on the ice-ridden mountain. Behind him spread the green and yellow fields of Deparne. For miles all he could see was the never-ending fields dotted with the villages and towns of his kingdom. The great River Volski, named after the mountain that it was born from, slithered across the land. Ahead of Zenak were the mighty ice mountains, but every once in a while, through the mountains, Zenak caught a glance at the rolling green hills of Soci. A mystery to the world, this fertile land sat in the midst of barren, snow-covered, ice-laden mountains. It was a land of wizards with minds of great powers and feelings. But it was a land that had kept to itself, protecting itself from any intruders. Because of this the people of the Island felt that Soci was an evil place filled with death-dealing wizards. The consensus of the people was wrong for Soci had been a land of peace and harmony, working only for the harmonious order of the brain with nature. It was also the center of the Island, the beginning of the Island and it was to be the end of the Island. Soci was also a major center of learning. The wizards were far advanced in science and technology. They knew the answers to questions that riddled the rest of the Island. But Soci had one foible, one tragic flaw; that is, she never shared her magnificent minds with the rest of the Island. They kept their knowledge locked up in their own country. Why they did this can only be left to speculation. But it seems a shame, because knowledge for knowledge’s sake seems a waste of time and resources. Since no one else knew of the wizards’ profound discoveries, what was the purpose of those great finds? It was as if no one had ever learned the deep mysteries the Island yearned to know the answers to. It was like a dancer doing the most notable dance of his career and no one seeing it. What good was it? There was no one to appreciate it or pass on its beauty. Possibly this is why Destiny had chosen Soci to be the end of the Island—because Soci had never really been a beginning for the Island. She had been the birthplace of mankind, but it stopped there and she never led the Island the way she should have. It was too late to turn back now, for Soci had fallen out of the hands of the wise wizards and kings. Now the most perverted thinker of all time sat on her throne and controlled her. Why had Vokar’s evil taken over? Were not these people great thinkers? Or were they so stifled by their greedy thoughts of keeping what they learned to themselves that they never felt the presence of Vokar’s evil? Only a pure mind filled with love and compassion would feel the dissonance of Vokar’s evil. Of course it would be argued that the people of Soci could do nothing to stop Vokar because Destiny willed it. But even Destiny’s vigilance was not always kept up completely. It seems to this writer that if Soci and had not accepted the Gates as the truth that Destiny might possibly have been beaten and there would have been a happier ending for the Island. Instead, Soci accepted the situation and thus lost the battle from the beginning.
Zenak Page 14