The Story Of URZENNA – Part 1

Urzenna’s father, King Haminid, had spent six long years searching for the invisible sword called The Kalex, a weapon of enormous mystical power, fallen from the armory of heaven.

The ministers in his temple had warned him that it was a sacred weapon, “To be given by god to good men, not taken by force by men of power”,
but King Haminid would not be denied, even by God and ultimately he found the invisible sword in a golden cave, deep within Mount Abron and, though the mountain warned him, in a grave booming voice, “The sword shall bring you nothing but sorrow and regret”, King Haminid took the sword as his prize, beheading its winged guardian, the Kalektar.

When he returned to his castle of Lashmel, his heart was soaring on clouds of victory. He heard the cheers of his subjects welcoming him and felt like a hero of legend but his heart was quickly ripped from the sky and hurled onto scorching rocks for, as he was dismounting his horse, his eldest and most beloved son, Kalimed, ran to embrace him and, unaware that the king was holding the invisible sword in his right hand, ran straight into its deadly point and was instantly run through and killed.

Haminid saw his dead son lying around his feet, bleeding and dying and the king’s heart keeled over and he fell to his knees, clutching his dying son and crying madly and, when Kalimed’s last breath had left his body and his eyes had become fixed upon the unseen, Haminid beat the earth and wept into his son’s wounds and Queen Sharnaz, seeing her son dead, tore out her hair and screamed at the sky.

King Haminid blamed God for the death of his son. He called her a vengeful god and swore vengeance against her. He lead two thousand of his soldiers to the great temple and they murdered all the priests within; set fire to all the sacred carvings, tapestries and scriptures and shattered the temple pillars with cannonballs so that all collapsed into ruin.

A priest, who was dying of his wounds called to Haminid from out of the rubble, “Why have you done this, oh defender of the faith?”, he asked.

“Because God has murdered my son”, bellowed the king.

And so God spoke, using what breath remained within the dying priest, “Millions of children are dying in my arms now. They are falling like raindrops upon me. Children dying from hunger and disease and war. Lives, too many to, even within my great hands, catch. But you were one of my hands, Haminid, who could have helped save lives, yet I could not move you to use you and I hear peasants in your villages and towns calling out to me to save their children and cursing the name of Haminid because he has let their children die of hunger”.

“Those are peasants”, yelled Haminid, his face like a thunder torn sky, “My son was the son of a king”.

God did not reply but the clouds then opened and rain fell down upon the ruined and the dead.