The kingdom wailed in tears and agony. Calamity shipped in, sailing it way fast towards the land.
The chronic fast spreading virus was no respecter of anybody. It took both young and old, rich and poor, refusing to leave behind the Nobel and influential men of the city. It was a white flu virus, ravaging aggressively all over the kingdom.
Once it grabbed it target, it takes the virus just two days to eliminate the suspect. The face goes completely white, inviting death to the victim. The kingdom was in uproar. The death casualty rose by fifteen percent, compared to the previous weeks. It graduated from fatal to ghastly.
All effort to publicly revealed the origin of the virus refuses to scale through the wall.
It just came, about one thousand and five hundred people were recorded dead in a week. Parent wailed, seeing their children, the hope of a next generation fall dead.
Would they ever be able to live with the weight of such heavy trauma in their heads. Their was gnashing of teeth all over the kingdom. Were they cursed?
The king was troubled to his spirit. He was caught in between his thought. Restlessness became his soul partner. People die everyday and he has no remedy to the fast killing virus.
The king stomach grumbled and he trembled in fear. His son, prince Luther has been typically bewitched by the virus. His legs fades off the floor the moment the palace physician feeds im the news.
His mind became a harvest of sadness and fear. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. The future of the kingdom was at stake. Luther was his only son and approximately the heir to the throne. He stormed into his private chamber, captivated by fear and anxiety. His head was burning despite the coldness of the day.
He took of his crown, walking back and forth, denying his bran from initial rest. At this point he was running out of options. He had to step into the cage of boldness and make a decision if he truly wants his son to live. Now he felt the immense pain of the masses. If he, a king could be disturbed and shattered, how much more would it have been for a common man.
He immediately ordered for the urgent presence of the old sorcerer who reside at the outskirts of the town. The old man was the only living sorcerer left in the whole of the kingdom. The previous king made life a hell and a discomforting place for him to live in. The king claimed he was upholding the law which say no supernatural creature or any human beyond the natural should be allowed in the land. His family were hunted down and burnt alive prior to his absence.
The old man became infuriated, he was pained to his artery. He meant no harm to anyone, yet he was stabbed gruesomely by the king. Silent in some cases isn't a foolish act but reacting with anger will only sum up the quantity of pain in him. He moved out of the kingdom, living at the far east not too distanced from the kingdom border, also known as the outskirt of the town.
The king knew that gaining the presence of the old sorcerer can be equated as telling a severely wounded man to take over the front line of the battle. His father the previous king had caused the old man unbearable havoc and inflicted him with an unquenchable pain. The king wrote a letter, backed by the palace royal seal with a context of trust and plead all for the sake of the kingdom.
Three days after, the sorcerer miraculously showed up. Information about his presence got to the king, he instantly ordered the guards to gently direct him into the palace with absolute care and respect. The king heart leaped for joy at the sight of the mighty sorcerer.
He was completely overwhelmed, welcoming the old man to dine with him which he politely refused. He was here to deliver a service, not dine with the enemy!
The king understand the old man pain so he uttered nothing in return. The sorcerer mumbled some words from his mouth, enchanting magic trying to reveal the genesis and revelation of the catastrophic incident. After a few minute, he stopped the enchantment, looking straight into the king eye. The king was overdosed with confusion.
His ear were eager to receive a reply and his eyeball were glowing in stars. The old man finally spoke, quenching the thirst of curiosity written all over the king face.
The ancient trident! That was the only solution. The trident belongs to the first ever monarch to rule the kingdom. It was a very powerful three — pronged spear wielded with the power of ancient magic.
It is believed to be a source of power and resurrection meant for the peace and safety of the kingdom. The trident shines like the brightness of the sun. Only he, who is found worthy of it power can be giving the privilege to lift it. Apart from the first monarch, no one could.
The king grew old and began seeing the four wall of death.
None of his heirs were worthy of the trident, they weren't given the privilege to bare the weight.
The trident will succumb and could only be lifted by who was worthy of it power.
Few days before the death of the great king, he embarked on a journey, taking the trident along with him. The king travelled miles, moving far into the animal forest and took a pause at a place known as the valley of snake.
The number of men who had stepped into the valley of snake for over two millennium could be numbered. The suicidal part was that, history never had a record of their return. The valley was surrounded with ancient spirit guiding the trident, waiting for earnestly to devour whatsoever human who tries to claim it.
The monarch thrusted the trident , sending it half into the valley, hoping a day would be born when it will find it worthy owner. The king heaved a sigh! The trident is the only way out of this predicament my king, the sorcerer stated. The trident is so powerful, even enough to stop a jungle lord.
Record has it that a certain jungle lord went into the valley to obtain the trident but the spirit of the valley didn't bow to him, the spirits attacked him, inflicting him with pain and anguish.
He had began dying slowly but was fortunate to be saved and brought back by the jungle animals. The king folded his fist in confusion.
From the prophecy revealed, the trident was no respecter of anyone. His son, the prince has just two days left, his life and that of thousand are hanging on a cliff. Time became one of his greatest adversary. Sending army to such a dangerous valley is probably an intended death sentence. The old man departed, refusing to mention if there is anyone worthy of such journey.