A harsh wind swept across a great plain of nothingness. Dry, stiff grass bent, giving way to the force of the wind. Nothing could be seen from any direction. Only grass and rolling hills. A cold, white sun blazed just over the horizon, creating a glare on the brown grass. A smell of dry dust and dead weeds lingered in the air. There was no shield, no barrier against the Cold here. The Cold ransacked everything and everyone, leaving no trace of warmth or comfort. The sun was now directly overhead, and on top of the furthest hill in sight, a dark mass was approaching. From the exact opposite side, another mass, though slightly smaller, was coming. Both were approaching the steepest hill in sight. As they got closer, one could see that it was not a single, immense object, but was made up of thousands of men, striding quickly and confidently toward their destination. Nearer and nearer they got, the wind picking up sounds of the clatter of chain mail and the dull thud of footsteps, tossing them about. Suddenly all noises ceased, and nothing could be heard but wind whipping through loose fabric. A man from each army stepped forward and started up the hill, as was the tradition in this world. From the smaller army was a tall and lean man. He had warm, dark brown eyes, and short, neatly trimmed, black hair. His face was clean-shaven, and he had no lines anywhere on his face. He wore a serious, thoughtful expression and had an air about him that drew people toward him. He was greatly respected throughout all kingdoms and was Lord of the most powerful kingdom in the world, Xaveron. People knew him as Zordex. It was said that he was the greatest, wisest wizard that ever walked the planet. His long, blue tunic fluttered in the breeze, and he carried a long, thin, golden staff, with a bright blue sphere on the top. It was said he was the greatest, wisest wizard that ever walked the planet The other man was short, and made of solid muscle. He had ice-cold gray eyes, and heavy, black eyebrows. He had greasy, black hair that just brushed the top of his shoulders and a neatly clipped goatee. The hatred that was generating out of his eyes was overpowering. He wore a scowl on his face, his eyes narrowed to slits. A blood-red cape fluttered out behind him, and the black robe underneath it rippled in the light wind. In his hands, he held a jet-black staff, with a wicked-looking skull settled on the top. He was called Yoleighwan, and was the leader of a ring of the six most evil, sinister, and dangerous wizards in the world. The two men stood face-to-face on the top of the hill. The hatred flowing out of Yoleighwan’s eyes was potent and unstemmed and would have caused anyone but Zordex to wither. Yoleighwan opened his mouth to speak, revealing chipped, yellow teeth. In a harsh, grating voice, barely above a whisper, he spoke. “So we meet again, Zordex. This time you won’t be leaving.” Zordex looked directly at Yoleighwan. “Yoleighwan,” he said it politely with a small nod of his head. Zordex’s civility and tranquility appeared to infuriate Yoleighwan. “You fool!” he screeched, “Do you not know what we are here over? Do you not know what danger you put yourself and that puny little army of yours in? Today is your last day living, Zordex. This is the last sun you will see!” Both armies heard Yoleighwan, and both armies reacted. Yoleighwan’s army sniggered and snorted, and Zordex’s army started forward. They would have attacked their enemy if not for Zordex, who raised his arm and ordered them back to their regular positions. Still calm and composed, Zordex answered Yoleighwan, “I am no fool, Yoleighwan. If I thought this little gathering would be of any harm to my army or me, I would not be standing here right now.” Soft cheers and hollers were heard from Zordex’s army. Yoleighwan’s troops retaliated by boisterous boos and curses. Yoleighwan’s eyes narrowed to slits and he hissed, “You are a fool, Zordex. And I will prove that to you and your little ninny squad behind you.” A puff of wind blew back Yoleighwan’s cape and he threw back his head and cried, “Charge!” Instantly, his army started forward, yelling at the top of their lungs. The spears they were carrying soared out of their hands, directed at the hearts of their foe, and would have struck true, if Zordex had not raised his hand and caused the hundreds of spears to bury their heads into an invisible wall and stay there, handles still quivering. The yells died in the throats of the men, and catcalls and shouts of triumph arose from Zordex’s army. Realizing that he had not prepared his men and himself for this kind of magical defense, he waved his hands and signaled “retreat” to the generals of his army. Silently, his army left. Yoleighwan spun on his heel and strode furiously from sight, his cape streaming out behind him. * * * As Zordex’s triumphant army approached the main capital city, Luvrann, cheers and whistles rose up from it to greet them. Although the soldiers relished this attention, Zordex had problems pressing his mind. Once he saw that his soldiers were on their way to their quarters, he magically disappeared and reappeared in his palace. In his own home, Zordex relaxed. He decided to go to the dining hall for some dinner before he retired to his room. He walked to the great hall, traveling down a long, comfortably carpeted hallway. After passing countless doors, he stopped and turned right into a set of double doors on his right. He paused in the doorway of a huge room furnished in blue and silver. A long, low, chrome table stood in the middle of the hall. Puffy cushions of blue
By Elizabeth Mainardi, Illustrated by Holly Wist
