The Scepter of Salem Chapter One

8/8/2019 The Scepter of Salem Chapter One

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The Scepter of Salem

Chapter One: The Best-Laid Plans

The sky was creeping into black, the day and evening finished, and all final

traces were veiled by an ugly black curtain of storm clouds. There was no contrast

between the earth and sky. If one looked to the horizon, all he would see was dark

blue layered over the black surface of the countryside. Nothing could be heard but

the wind, which was making its way up into the storm above.

Occasionally, there was a bright flash, and the land was alive with color once

more. Then there was a thunderclap, reverberating off the earth like a drum. But as

soon as it came, the light disappeared, and the sound faded; and all was back as it

was; as if the night had quelled the days final rebellion. It was in this scene, on a

wide and long road, that a lone black carriage rode on into the night.

Two weary black horses panted as they pulled the wagon forward. The

leather reins strained, stretched to their limits, as the steeds tested their-own. They

pulled with such force, and strength, that it was almost as if they knew the urgency

of their quest.

Sitting atop the front seat, clinging to the reins, the cloaked figure of a man

steered the horses, keeping them on the road. He whipped ferociously as the horses

tried to keep up with his unrelenting pace. Ahead of them, the road narrowed, so

the driver squinted in the darkness, keeping his vision ahead in anticipation.


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Suddenly, as if on cue, there was a light on the horizon, warm and glowing, a haven

on this black night.

Quickly, the driver transferred the reins to his left hand, and with his right,

knocked hard on the wood behind him. Inside, the single passenger stirred, and one

of the two only windows opened. A mans head appeared in the opening, and after

rubbing sleep from his eyes, he gazed onward at the new appearance ahead, which

had now grown from one light to many twinkling firelights: a city.

Thats it, he said, and the window was closed once more.

It was half an hour later that they finally arrived at the front gate. Two men

were standing guard, armed with swords and ivory wands. They stood in front of

the gate and were almost glowing in their golden armor. Up above, on top of the

white wall were many ramparts, where more sentries were hidden. When the

carriage approached, the guards stood ready, and one of them called out, Who goes

there?! For a moment, there was no answer as the carriage moved towards the

gates, showing no sign of stopping.

Both guards aimed their wands, ready for a sudden attack. But instead, the

carriage door swung open, and the passenger leaned his body outside, keeping

himself onboard with his left hand. He was a tall and handsome man, who looked

around the age of thirty-five, wearing all black, and having a presence of power and

authority.

His hair and eyes were dark brown, and his face was lean, with a few harsh

angles. He wore no facial hair, which made him look younger. Currently, his

eyebrows were furled in slight frustration. He didnt have time to go through the


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royal guard, especially considering the circumstances of his identity, and arrival.

The nearest guards jaw dropped, as he recognized the man leaning out of the

carriage. But quickly, he concealed his surprise and to the large wooden gates he

shouted, Open the doors!

Almost immediately, there was a huge reply of shouting voices, from the

unseen guards above, and the gates creaked, as they swung outward. The passenger

kept leaning out of the carriage, as it entered the city, and his head missed the gate

by inches. He didnt climb back inside until he felt a heavy droplet of rain land on his

nose.

The city was magnificent to behold. As the formal dwelling place of the king,

all the buildings, roads, and bridges were maintained to be absolutely perfect.

Everything was white. The buildings were very large, and set into a tight-knit

pattern. Many of them were cross-shaped dormitories, holding ten rooms in each

wing, and were usually occupied by the middle class. All of the dormitories were

somehow connected to each other. As the black carriage rolled down the main

street, it passed underneath at least five bridges supported by arch-shaped

gateways. The gates below controlled the passage of the street, while the bridges

above connected many of the buildings.

And though they were enclosed with a very nice, and very steep, limestone

rooftop, these bridges were not sheltered from the coming storm. They had no glass

windows, just thin openings for windswept rain to sneak through. This was no

design flaw, but was built for a tactical purpose. At the first sign of trouble, the gate

would close, and an archer would man each of the tiny windows, which would be a


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big problem for any opposing force trying to take the inner palace. The passenger

observed this defense mechanism with interest, wondering how any army could get

into the center of the city without devastating losses, or someone working on the

inside.

Besides the dormitories, there were large mansions for the well to do. Most

were square two story homes clinging to the street, and those who dwelled inside

were fortunate enough to have a small garden, or walled courtyard, fixed with lovely

fountains, or statues of famous relatives. Whether the dukes, duchesses, wealthy

merchants, or any men with ambition and royal blood, owned these pleasant little

additions to the home, none ever used them. In fact, they would have been put to

much better use if owned by the poor.

Those less fortunate folk were neglected by the city. All those who couldnt

afford to live in any dormitories or mansions, were herded into their new home. A

hundred men would live in a mansion, built and prepared exactly like all the others,

except the precious gardens were sold to merchants, looking for a shop at the edge

of the street.

And finding the outer appearance more valuable than the soul, the

authorities would polish off the outside of the horrible excuse of a home like a brand

new gem, and leave the inside disastrous; broken down and flea-infested. In fact,

the city had an entire department dedicated to covering up the poor and homeless.

They were known to build walls around the slums of the city, and encourage visitors

kindly, not to enter. All this, they did, just to get newcomers to be astonished, and

say to themselves, Everyone lives in a mansion! The irony was that the men were


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so deeply entrenched in thinking this way, that they forgot where they began, and

spent enough money to make all the poor rich.

As the carriage swept down the surprisingly narrow road, only a few were

curious enough to look out their windows, or stand in their doorways. Instead, they

were preparing for the storm. It was usually a custom for a mounted knight to lead

the new arrivals on, announcing the visitors names, and classes. Without this

forewarning, many of the villagers were astonished, upon preparing their outdoor

patios, and securing their huge oak shutters, they only heard the carriage rush by,

and looked up only to see it vanish in the distance. Then, just as they were about to

turn back to their work, they noticed the mounted knight, fully dressed in golden

armor, racing after the carriage on a white horse, shouting at the top of his lungs to

get the wagon to stop.

It didnt stop. It continued on toward the center of the city. It passed by one

the gates to the part of town that was unspoken of; the wart that the city had

covered in powder and the passenger inside couldnt help but think of how

ridiculous it had all become. From that point, everything was spotless. Every

building, archway, column, statue, staircase, bridge, and wall was pure white, either

made of limestone, or marble. Most of the windows glittered green, for the glass had

been melted with a special jade.

A few moments later, the carriage was entering another gateway. They were

now arriving at the Kings Palace. Bright torches hung in a pattern on the beautiful

marble walls, on long golden rods. Many things were now lined with gold, including

supportive columns, and window frames. The palace was the largest building in the


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city, with a very tall center tower, sparkling both green and gold, and it seemed

distant in the feint light.

The carriage came into a square courtyard, and followed a small cobblestone

road to a stop, right in front of the entrance. The front was complete with a small

fifteen-foot staircase leading to the entrance made of heavy double doors of oak, but

leafed with gold, and in the center of them was a great painted seal. It was of a royal

purple phoenix inside a golden shield. The Seal of the Wizard King. The phoenix

was put on every shield in the city, but none were as beautiful as this one. Before

the phoenix could be admired, it was split in half as the doors flew open, pushed by

two young men of the royal guard, and out walked a short old man. He stopped at

the top of the staircase.

Upon his head was an extravagant crown, encrusted with diamonds. His

flowing robes were a deep maroon, and he reached his hand inside, pulling out an

extremely long wand of about twenty inches. He wasnt rude enough to point it at

anyone though; instead, he just held it at his side, where he wore a silver sword in

its sheath.

Who are you? He asked loud enough to be heard inside the cab of the

carriage. Its door opened, cued by the mans question, and the passenger jumped

out, and landed on the stones below. He then shut the door, and straightened his tall

wool overcoat.

The king saw him, and any sour mood he could have had before vanished,

Sylvester! My son!

Immediately, he ran down the stairs, much to the distaste of the guards


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standing behind him. The man nearest to him, tried to grab the kings arm to stop

him, but to his obvious frustration, he wasnt fast enough. Instead of helping the old

man down, he stood glued to the spot like a statue, silently cursing himself.

Sylvester stood waiting for his father, the highly esteemed Lewis, Great

Wizard King of Salem. He knew exactly why the guards were angry to see Lewis

move so eagerly down the stairs. Though he moved rather quickly, he looked ill. He

was thinner than he had been when they had last seen each other, and his skin was

clammy, and almost as pale as his long silver beard. On his kind face were deep

wrinkles: wrinkles of age, pain, and worry.

King Lewis coughed slightly, reaching the bottom of the stairs, and moved

forward to embrace his beloved son. As he did so, Sylvester suddenly realized that

his face was holding an expression full of serious apprehension. Quickly, he forced

his lips to curve ungracefully into a smile. It looked almost like a grimace, but it was

the best he could manage. For the benefit of those watching.

Lewis took no notice. He embraced his son firmly. Sylvester hesitated before

raising his arms, and putting them around his father. When he did so, he felt a small,

but real shutter in the kings core. His age seemed to be getting the best of him.

Sylvester was a head taller than his father, and during the warm embrace, he

used the time to examine the guards who stood watching. They were both very

young, the older couldnt have been more than twenty, and they looked similar, both

with brown bangs hanging under their helmets, and the same kind eyes. They must

have been brothers. Sylvester exited his fathers hug and looked at him up and

down.


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Father, how are you?

But before Lewis could answer, there was a wild sound of horseshoes hitting stone

behind them, and they looked back to see a knight, galloping into the courtyard on a

white horse. He skidded to a stop ten feet from the pair, and the horse reared,

frightened by a sudden clap of thunder.

The knight swung off, landing heavily on his booted feet. He was built large,

with a chubby face, and sported a particularly long and curly blonde mustache, that

protruded from his golden chainmail like the whiskers of a catfish.

How dare--! He was saying in a high nasal twang, but as he looked at

Sylvester, suddenly silenced, as if by a magical spell.

Er My apologies, prince, he said while bowing low, How very nice it is

to see you again. But his eyes told Sylvester that he wasnt happy.

And for me to see you, Sir Kathogen, Sylvester replied, returning the

obvious displeasure.

Lewis turned to the knight folding his arms angrily, his wand still out, and

aiming high in the sky. The knight was about to reply, but Lewis said, Sir Kathogen,

as you can see, his eyes glared at him fiercely, the visitor is only my son. You may

leave.

Kathogen looked at his master, upset. He had only just arrived. Before any

more words were shared, another loud thunderclap marked the beginning of a large

torrent of rain. The king led his son back up the steps, and inside. The knight, filled

with disgust, climbed back onto his stallion. Before riding back to the front gates, he

nodded to the carriage driver, who had been waiting in silence.


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Lewis led Sylvester into a grand hall. It was at least a hundred and fifty feet

long, and fifty feet wide. Ten doors on each long wall made this the most traveled

part of the palace, yet it was strangely empty. The light was dim, coming from a

torch mounted on the wall over each doorway. Among the support beams on the

ceiling were five huge chandeliers, but only the one over the center of the room was

alive and dancing with flames. At the end of the room was another set of double

doors, made of wood and nearly six inches thick.

As they began to walk across to the other side of the hall, the two guards

hurried to pass in front of them, and lead on. Lewis took that as a moment to

introduce them, Son, this is Kenneth, and his younger brother Mark. Kenneth, the

older and less serious brother, nodded to Sylvester, who nodded back. Mark didnt

make any signs of greeting, but focused on his job. Sylvester examined them both,

wondering how much Lewis trusted the two of them.

There was a moment of silence, where all that was heard was their footsteps. Then

Lewis said, You look wonderful. How long has it been?

Long enough, father.

Yes. It has been far too long How is everything?

Everything is fine, father, Sylvester mumbled. He was too serious and

uptight for small talk.

How is Charlotte?

Sylvester just stared ahead, and said, She is doing well. She wishes she

couldve joined me on this visit, but our son is ill, and it would not be a good idea for

him to travel. What he had just told the King was a lie, but it was a good excuse for


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him to be alone.

Oh, thats too bad, said Lewis, sighing, I really would love to see my

grandson.

Yes, father.

There was a short pause. Then, Is there any particular reason that youre

here, son?

Well father, Sylvester lied, I would like to check on you. To see how you

are doing.

Im fine, Sylvester, Lewis said, his voice happy, yet annoyed. He didnt

want to think of his children taking care of him instead of him watching over his

own son, Is there any other reason?

Well, I would like to see an old friend while Im here.

Someone I know?

No. Hes just a friend. This trip is purely on a whim, although I cant stay for

more than a few days.

Alright Sylvester, well get you a room upstairs.

That wont be necessary father.

After a moment, they reached the end of the hall. The large doors stood

ahead of them. Kenneth and Mark hurried to them and pulled them open. Sylvester

stood where he was for a moment, thinking. This was the moment. Then, the prince

walked forward through the doors, and stopped. Pretending to hesitate, Sylvester

waited a few seconds, as if what he was about to say was spontaneous and just a

passing fancy. No one else knew that this was the very reason Sylvester was in the


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city.

May I have a moment alone with my father?

Kenneth stopped for a moment, shuffled his feet, and stuttered as he said,

Butthe king has orderedfor heightened security.

This is my son! Lewis snapped, suddenly enraged, To whom, you should

be referring as your highness! Or has he lost his royal blood! He balled his fists in

surprising fury.

Father, Sylvester put an arm on him, to calm him, and after a brief moment,

said, Lets go inside.

He led his father through the doors, but not before Lewis could say, You will

not interrupt us, sternly, but quietly. When he was inside, the slightly deflated

guard closed the doors behind them.

In the center of the room, the throne stood, resolute: the main structure of

the room. It was speckled with many fine jewels, all representing a corner of the

expansive kingdom that Lewis, himself, had helped construct in his earlier days. It

was also covered in plump maroon cushions fit only for a king. A great red carpet

patterned with gold had led the way to a bench, where a knight would kneel, or an

ambassador would bow in respect. There were also other chairs and cushions

towards the front of the room, facing the throne for visitors to await their

appointment with the King.

The room had been constructed like the throne, covered in gold leaf, and

encrusted with many fine jewels. There was a very large brick of gold above the doo

r through which they had just come. It was at least five feet long, two feet wide, and


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a foot thick. In the center of the brick, these words were engraved:

May Friends Never Depart

May Foes Never Return

As Sylvester read them, he thought about how, in the circumstances, he may

depart from this city and how he may not return.

Lewis turned to his son. He was about to ask what he wanted to talk about,

but he stopped, because he noticed that Sylvesters expression had suddenly

changed. He now looked worried, and seriously stressed.

Whats wrong? Lewis asked. But Sylvester put a finger to his mouth to

signal silence. Sylvester turned to the doors, and out of his coat he pulled a silver

wand.

What are you doing? Lewis asked. Sylvester took his wand, and pressed

the tip on the gap between the doors, as high as he could reach. Then, very slowly,

he gently lowered the wand, and something started to happen. The wand was

releasing an almost invisible fog that was spreading onto the whole of the doors.

When he reached the bottom, there was a small hiccough of sound, not unlike the

opening of a sealed jar.

Sylvester straightened, standing away from the bottom of the door, and

hurried over to Lewis, grasping his forearms.

Father, I want you to listen very carefully.

What?

Youre in danger! He said in a frantic whisper, although he didnt need to,


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because he had just sealed the door from eavesdroppers.

Im what? Lewis asked. It had not yet sunk in that the situation had

changed drastically from just a moment before. Sylvester said, Father, everything

Ive said was for the benefit of those listening. Im not here just because I fancied

being here. Im not visiting any old friends. My son isnt ill! There is a plot against

you!

Lewis looked at Sylvester, going over everything his son had said in his mind.

Then, breaking through confusion, he said, Tell me more.

Sylvester nodded, and did as he was told, I was traveling in the neighboring country

of Nahadara. While I was there, I talked among the people, as did many of my

servants. We were all trying to find out information about the country. We were

doing reconnaissance work for Salem.

Lewis nodded, cueing Sylvester to continue, While pretending to be a

servant in an important Lords house, I found out from the Lords personal slave that

they were plotting against us.

Why would they attack us?

Sylvester took a breath, and swallowed deeply. Lewis knew that he was

about to give him very bad news. And he did, They found out about the scepter.

The kings eyes widened; he had tried, as the Wizard Kings had, to keep the

scepter unknown to anyone outside of the palace. He had strived to protect the

most powerful and most dangerous object on earth. Sylvester noticed his fathers

eyes flash with realization, as he breathed very heavily and said, I was warned of

this.


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How? Sylvester asked, with very genuine surprise. Lewis gazed at him, and

said meaningfully, Our friend.

You meanthe foreteller?

Yes. He told me that the scepter would be in danger of being put into the

wrong hands!

Really? What did you do?

I took the necessary precautions, and hid the scepter in a secret room.

Sylvester stared for a moment. Then he said, Does anyone know of this?

No, Lewis replied, I did it in the middle of the night. It was so long ago,

that I had forgotten about it.

Its good that no one knows, because I discovered how they knew of the

scepter.

How?

Well, I set up spies, within the enemys ranks, and I found out that they have

spies of their own.

Where?

Here, father. They have men in the royal guard!

Lewis looked stunned. He separated from Sylvester, and began to pace in

thought. Then, he turned to his son, speaking firmly, This cannot be!

It is! Sylvester told him, How else would they know? The scepter is the

most closely guarded secret in the world!

Lewis looked very shaken. He came to his son as if begging, grabbing the

mans arms and gripping his sleeves, Youre sure?


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Sylvester, silent for a moment, was taken aback by his fathers sudden

weakness. Then, taking a long breath, he said with finality, Yes.

Lewis stared at him. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to say

nothing at all. Then, the doors flew open, and Kenneth rushed into the room,

breaking the seal of silence.

Turning to the two men, he said, Your highness! There is an army

approaching!

An army?! Lewis cried.

Yes! They are coming this way from the south!

Kenneth stood there, wishing he hadnt brought such bad news. Lewis

looked him up and down, and then turned to Sylvester, who looked just as surprised

as he was. But Sylvester didnt let the shock take over. He conjured himself, and

said, Father?

Lewis nodded, admiring his sons bravery. Then, he composed himself,

saying, Sylvester, did you not see them?

No, I came from the southwest.

Then they are traveling along the main road. Thats plenty of room for their

foot soldiers.

But what about Redvine? Sylvester asked, The city is right on the road!

How could they have gotten passed unnoticed?

Lewis turned to him, thinking. Then, he said with dread, We must assume

that Redvine is currently under siege, or it has already been taken.

Fear struck in Kenneths eyes. He said through heavy breaths, But Redvine


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is the largest city in Salem! They have a grand army!

Lewis looked at him, with a confirming nod, and then he said, Rouse

everyone! Prepare them! Man your posts, and make sure that this city is ready to

face battle! From the first word his spirits had changed. It was time to take action,

Go with your brother to relay this information. The approaching force may already

be in offensive position, so we must hurry! I want Sir Kathogen to report back to me

every hour! Go now!

Yes, your highness! Kenneth shouted, and he hurried out to the front

doors, beckoning his brother Mark to follow. When they were out of earshot,

Sylvester asked quietly, Do you trust them?

I do, Lewis replied. The great hall was now deserted, and yet full of a

strong sense of urgency and panic.

Alright father, he then turned Lewis around to face him, grasping his

forearms once more, We need to get the scepter out!

Yes, but how?

Sylvester swallowed again and sighed, We need to send it out quickly, and

the problem is, no one can know. Neither the enemy or the royal guard!

Lewis nodded and sighed. Then, as he realized something, he avoided

Sylvesters gaze for a moment. But then, more resolute than ever, he nodded again,

as if agreeing to an unheard statement.

Then there is only one road we can take...I will give you the scepter.

Are you sure?

Yesyou will escape with it, through the north entrance.


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But what about you?

Lewis was now calmer than he had ever been, I cannot leave these people

behind. I will stay and fight. We will hold them off, and give you a chance to get far

away.

But father--!

Dont argue! I am old! Four hundred years old! And besides, I cant leave

without alerting the guard. My time has come. Now you must listen.

Sylvester stood, not breaking eye contact with his fathers fierce gaze. A fire

twinkled in Lewis eyes. A great noise sounded above them. People in the tower

over them were being warned of the approaching army. Above that, the clanging

noise of the warning bell alerted everyone in the city. However, Sylvester didnt

think about what could be happening all around them, or of the chaos that must be

beginning to rein on the streets. He just looked at his father, ready to hear what he

wanted to say.

You will follow the road north. If you keep following it, you will eventually

reach a point where the road turns back. You will not turn back, but continue to

travel north. Do you understand?

Yes.

GoodWhen you have gone north a few miles, you will find a secret place.

There is a task I need you to perform when you arrive.

What task, father?

Youll find out when you get there. Sylvester was about to ask more, but

realized he was running out of time.


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Yes, father.

Once you have completed the task, you must find Helmer.

Where is he?

Hes hunting wild game in the Cloven Forest. Find him. Tell him everything.

Thenyou must raise an army.

Yesfather.

Lewis let go of his son, and stepped back to examine him. Then, he smiled,

warm and sad, and he said finally, with much admiration, Consider yourself king. I

am very proud of you.

Sylvester bowed in respect, Thank you. Lewis kept looking at his boy, not

releasing his gaze until the moment was interrupted by loud shouts of captains

barking orders to their men. In their rush, Kenneth and Mark had left the front

doors open, which had allowed distant noises to travel to the father and son. The

noise awakened Lewis from his trance-like moment, and he suddenly found a new

mission.

He walked, followed by Sylvester to the throne, and hurried past it, to the

back of the room. Sylvester was about to ask, for there was nothing there but an

empty wall, but stopped when he saw Lewis reach into his robe and pull out his

wand.

Lewis raised his wand, twirled it, and pointed it at the wall, closing his eyes.

Then, breathing very heavily, he opened his eyelids slowly, and the wall opened with

them. Suddenly, the wall was splitting and spreading apart, forming a secret room

no bigger than twenty square feet.


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The room held only item. Upright on a pedestal was a magnificent golden

scepter. It was a long gold rod, over twenty-eight inches in length, and it was

covered in strange symbols, ruins of a sort, which were a fierce emerald. On top of

the rod was shining Diamond Head, just smaller than a fist. Sylvester gazed at it,

filled with awe and--

We must hurry! Lewis said, rushing into the newly formed room, and he

grabbed the scepter, lifting it from its simple pedestal. It was truly beautiful. Lewis

took it, and walked towards his son.

He held the scepter in front of him, and said, There is one more thing that I

must do before I give this to you.

Sylvester nodded. Lewis eyes filled with dread. He gripped the scepter in his hands

in front of him, and said, I now commit all my power.

Suddenly, hundreds of white sparks emitted out of the old mans hands.

They rolled down his fingertips like ants, down to the scepter. Lewis appeared to be

in pain, and looked as though tremendous energy was draining from him. The

sparks seemed to be alive, as they moved up the scepters shaft, and grouping at one

destination: the diamond. Then, sparks stopped pouring out of Lewis hands, and as

the last reached the diamond, it turned pure white.

There was a blinding flash. Sylvester shielded his eyes, and then looked

onward at his father. He looked to be even older. More wrinkles were on his face.

He looked even paler, and he was sweating profusely.

I he said feebly to Sylvester, who was watching, amazed, I now am no

longerto be called Wizard


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Sylvester stared at him, and turned his gaze to the scepter. Brand new ruins

were being burned into its shaft with red-white light, which slowly faded, ending the

spell.

Lewis nearly dropped it as he leaned on the nearest wall. Sylvester was

about to run forward, but stopped. He waited there, watching his father for a

minute. In that time, Lewis was gaining back his strength. Then, he stood up,

though it still took effort, and straightened himself. He smiled. Hiding all weakness

for a moment, he handed the scepter, the authority, and the blessing to his son.

Sylvester took it, and immediately felt its warm spirit held within. He looked

at it, felt it, and weighed it in his hands. Lewis saw his son smile back at him, but

after a short moment, he noticed that Sylvester was not smiling a warm or kind

smile. It was ice cold.

You fool.

Before Lewis could utter another word, Sylvester swung the scepter, hard

and fast. The diamond struck the kings temple with a loud and terrible clunk. He

fell to the ground.

Sylvester looked at him curiously, as if he was reading an interesting passage

in a strange book. Lewis body was crumpled on the ground. The crown had slipped

off his head and rolled backwards and into the wall, leaving his long white hair

scattered around him like a halo in a mess on the floor. His eyes stared up at

Sylvester, but they no longer saw.

Hmmph, Sylvester said casually. He turned, and looked around the room.

Then, he stepped to Lewis and kneeled beside him. Gingerly, he reached his hand


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around the body, and found his fathers sheath near the hip. He picked it up, and

pulled out the silver sword, oohing at it. Then, he picked up the wand that had

fallen to the floor.

Standing up, Sylvester made sure he had everything he came for, and with a

shrug, turned to the door.

YOUR HIGHNESS! someone was yelling as he ran down the entrance hall.

He hadnt yet seen the body of the fallen king, The army bears the crest Redvine!

Then, he entered. It was Sir Kathogen. His eyes widened.

I know, said Sylvester. And using his own fathers wand, he swung, and

broke off the golden brick above the door. Then, he swung his arm down vertically.

Kathogen was yelling, NOOOO!!! But his voice was snuffed away. The

knight was crushed.

Sylvester then calmly walked to the door, the scepter and wand in his right

hand, and the sword dragging on the floor in his left. He carefully stepped over the

pile of rubble, and strode into the hall. The sword made an unbearable screech, as

Sylvester continued to drag it across the fine stone, leaving a deep groove.

He stepped outside, into the courtyard. Rain was pouring down heavily,

lightning struck, and thunder boomed. In the distance was the sound of battle cries.

Sylvester walked past Kathogens lonely horse, and his own carriage, which

was also unmanned. The driver must already have been doing his job, he supposed.

And he walked out of the courtyard, back onto the road. From there, he began the

long walk up the same road from which he came, opening every gate along the way,

so he could let his army inside.

The Scepter of Salem Chapter One

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Transcript of The Scepter of Salem Chapter One