The City of Ferocities was now known as the land of continuous rain. This area was not visited by the outside world. Nothing but the Savage Kingdom was there, with its starved animals and carcasses lying about. It was an eerie land; a wet wasteland. The dark metallic-colored sky’s only light was from the ever beaming Soul Realm. Black crows and vultures stayed low on the ground due to the weight of the rain. The city was infested with snakes of all kind. They dominated the Savage Kingdom. The soldiers, all weak from starvation, no longer stood at attention. Instead they slumped to the ground.
Kalos’ depression had left him emaciated as well. Everyone had resorted to eating the snakes and drinking the rain to stay alive. Ferocities still had no respect from other lands in Mandune, and the Torrids were extremely angry with Kalos for backing down from Grandelyn the first time they wanted to attack. The city was full of corrosion, mildew and mold, causing sickness throughout the land. The rain was relentless. But the Soul Realm was beaming brighter than ever; teasing Kalos and the Torrids with every stare.
Kalos was relaxing in his withering, mildewed throne room, when he decided to remove his musky mask. His wet black hair covered his face showing only his weak amber eyes. He was having a hard time breathing as anxiety was setting upon him. Noire slithered and wrapped himself around his chest, trying to comfort him, but was flung off in a fit of anger. Kalos put his head back as his mind began to wander.
The knight in black continued to snarl at the young king. The young king felt extremely uncomfortable and a tad guilty; though he had no reason to.
“You know very well what I want, Marquisa!” The knight barked.
“I can’t give you that, Kalos. I cannot give you my throne. I won’t.” Kalos’ dark amber eyes stared the young man down. His upper lip twitched trying to contain the force of rage rising in him.
“Fine.” He broke his silence through gritted teeth. “Then I shall take my new position of knight with dignity and pride, your majesty.” Kalos spoke with sarcasm. He bowed and turned to walk out of the throne room, leaving the king to feel extremely guilty. His connection to Kalos was a strong one and he loved him and didn’t want to let him down. King Marquisa was the beloved king of Grandelyn more than 30 years ago. He was kind, handsome, humble, and giving. All the citizens loved and respected him. Kalos of course everyone hated, but King Marquisa wanted a title for him. King Marguisa longed for Kalos’s love and respect, after all Kalos was his father. They had both found Grandelyn after escaping a land named Maru, when King Marquisa was a teenager. They had to escape because Kalos had wronged a black magic god there and his worshippers were sent out to kill him and his son. Marquisa’s mother had been slain already and a bounty was put on their heads. They got away and became a part of the land that was not yet called Grandelyn, before it had become established. The people didn’t like Kalos or his personality but they took to his son well. They liked his leadership skills even at such a young age. They thought he was smart and had great ideas on how to build Grandelyn up. They liked Marquisa so much that they made him king, causing Kalos to spite him every day.
Though Marquisa couldn’t change how the people felt about him, he still wanted to please his father. Kalos’ dark heart and need for power would come to stand in the way of that. King Marquisa only had two things that he cared deeply about. He wanted to be a great king to his nation and to love his fiancé with all of his heart and soul. He was set to marry a beautiful young lady. A woman highly respected and loved in Grandelyn as well, but that would be all destroyed. Grandelyn was a great place before the incident that would change everything and annihilate a nation.
The memory left his mind and he was right back in the humid room that smelled of curdled milk and rancid cheese; the piles of snake still surrounding him and coating his room. He was amped up now. The anger from his memory riled up a burst of evil energy and he was ready to release it. “Torrids! Come to me.” He shouted. Soon three Torrids crawled to his room. A tall big one, a skinny one, and Vysera; all standing before Kalos; yellow eyes glowing and burnt and sickly.
“Yes, Master. You called?” Vysera hissed.
“I am ready. Tonight we attack!” He said with strength coming back to his voice. Kalos put on his mask and stepped on all the snakes beneath him, squashing them with every step.
“Yes. Most certainly, Master.” The Torrid hissed rubbing his crispy hands together. They had the confidence to go after what they wanted and was stopping at nothing to get it.