SmackDown: Back to Our Roots

Round 1: Kalavathi Burns - @CJG1988

A slight tremor was felt by all within the chambers. Each forty six members of the Royal Guard overcompensated their stance instantly, lowering their centre of gravity as their hands shot for their hilts. Everyone remained frozen in place, as over the next few seconds, three more tremors rocked the Citadel of Kalavathi. It was Captain Jarrah's voice that brought Jarin back to his senses.

"Squads 1 to 3, Northgate!" he commanded and the Guards began to mobilise. "Squads 4 and 5, Southgate!" he continued. "Squads 6 to 8, to the Gardens, retrieve the Queen and Princess and secure them in Armoury II!

"Yes Sir!" they barked in unison as he gave each set of instructions, before marching off. Captain Jarrah then turned to Jarin.

"Go to the King Jarin. He still sleeps, guard his chamber doors until I return!"

"Yes Father!" I answered as I turned to leave. Just noticing that Captain Jarrah had left himself to babysit Lord Omerus.

Jarin charged down the corridor, flying toward the Royal bedchambers. Explosions sang out in the distance, this was by far the most daring they had ever been.

He arrived outside the chamber doors finding no sign of enemies or intruders. Keeping line of sight with the door, he quickly checked the only other blind corner across the corridor. The explosions had ceased and an eerie sense of dread washed over Jarin as he focused on the sound of his own heartbeat within his ears. He was sweating, more than he could ever remember do so during his training sessions. Jarin tried to calm himself, taking in a deep breath. But then, the sound of something crashing to the floor in the chambers behind him caused him to jump. He spun on his foot and with all his strength, forced open the heavy carved wooden doors.

Jarin charged into the Royal Bedchambers and was confronted by a black hooded figure, standing over the body of the King. Without even thinking, Jarin had already drawn his sword. The King's throat had been slit, his lifeless body half wrapped in now crimson sheets. The Assassin wore all black, their face was covered by cloth and a hooded cloak kept it in shadows. Jarin's hands trembled as he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. The Assassin edged back slightly, only the King's gargantuan bed stood between them.

"Don't you dare move!" commanded Jarin as he lunged forward, but the intruder had other ideas. They darted to the side and that's when Jarin saw the dagger still dripping with blood, slicing up towards him. Jarin raised his sword to parry away the attack. In doing so, for that briefest of moments as they pushed against one another, Jarin saw into the Assassins eyes. They were the most breathtaking blue he had ever seen. Distracted, Jarin almost didn't notice the return slash of the dagger that narrowly caught his left arm, leaving a shallow slice.

The Assassin jumped back, just as Jarin did the same. He had let his guard down and nearly paid dearly for it. Squeezing the hilt tightly, Jarin, as he was trained to do, began to recite the magical incantation to activate his power sword.

"I call upon the spirit that dwells within my blade!" he roared, and a hue of blue light coated his sword in undulating waves, accompanied by the chorus of a hundred locusts in the distance.

The Assassin appeared apprehensive at the sight of Jarin's blue blade.

"Does my magic frighten you Assassin?" he taunted, but the Assassin remained silent. Jarin wasn't going to wait, he darted forward, raising his sword high. The Assassin strafed as Jarin's sword came down, just severing the top inch of cloth from the wearers hood. Long dark hair uncoiled and fell delicately down to the Assassins shoulders. It was a young woman, no older than Jarin himself.

As Jarin found himself staring deeply into the cold blues eyes before him, the Assassin took her chance and rushed him with her dagger at the ready. Jarin wasn't caught off guard this time, watching her eyes intently had given him a perfect indicator. He swung his power sword, with an arc of blue light following in it's wake. The Assassin jumped back with only half her dagger.

A smile crept over Jarin's face, he could taste victory. But then, his armour started to feel heavy, a sensation he hadn't known since he was a boy. His legs began to quiver, unable to maintain his grip, Jarin dropped his sword, and then fell to his knees. The Assassin walked over cautiously, kicking Jarin's sword away across the floor.

"Wha-what magic is this?" he struggled to ask.

"There is no magic you parasite. The reign of your kind on our world is at an end." she warned. "No longer will we be oppressed by your advanced technology!"

Jarin was in awe. Not because he had been poisoned and was now at the mercy of his enemy, but he could not believe the heresy being proclaimed right in front of him.

"Lies!" He snapped. "My people are descendant from the Gods themselves!"

"No you fool. Your kind crashed here on Ruciea, it's true, I've seen the old ship myself." She declared.

Jarin's entire body trembled, his entire world was spiralling around him. His King had been murdered, the Citadel burned, and worse still, he was beginning to doubt what he had been taught since birth. As the poison continued to spread through his body, Jarin fell to his side, unable to move. Without a word, the Assassin turned to flee.

"Wait!" Jarin screeched into the floor. "Please, I beg of you, tell me, tell me more. I want to know everything, before I die."

The Assassin smiled, she walked back over and squatted down next to Jarin.

"I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Meet me at the old crossing of the Fadosey river at midnight."

Jarin's face contorted slightly, "I don't think I'll last that long," he whimpered.

The Assassin gave a reserved chuckle. She reached out and gently cradled Jarin's face.

"You'll be fine. The paralysis will wear off in an hour or two," she winked. With that she got up and shot toward the window climbing out and she was gone.