Crossing Forbidden Lines

The High Wizard Levieth stood up from his seat upon the balcony, gazed down at Darshun, then summoned black clouds and smoke. It materialized over the entire battlegrounds, overshadowing the mid-afternoon sun. The crowd began chanting praises about the Dark King and Queen with melodies evil in tone, hardly describable. This entire process meant to install fear into Darshun, as they normally did to their other victims. Then rays of light began to pierce through the darkness soon eradicating it completely and Levieth shouted aloud: “Let the games begin!” His voice echoed across the land like thunder.


A large section of the stonewall on the south end of the battlegrounds slowly ascended like a door and out of the shadows came the Six Champions. Two were sickly pale-faced Cullach, both wearing studded leather, armed with double-edged swords. There also stood a Barbarian woman having long scarlet hair, clothed in a dark green leather vest, a large silver belt with the skulls of either monkeys or little children attached to it and a chainmail skirt, wielding a battle axe. Then there were two men looking as if they lived in the wild all their lives with greenish-gray eyes, long scraggly black hair and rough dark beards. One carried a double-speared staff, the other a sickle. Alongside them, stood a seven foot Draconian with fangs reaching down to its chin, clothed in hide armor and holding a war hammer, the steel head twice as thick as its skull. All looked incredibly strong. The crowd cheered them on as they approached Darshun.

“A Nasharin skull would be worth a lot of gold these days,” one of the Cullach spoke.

“The skull is mine!” the Barbarian woman shouted. “I want it around my waist.”

“Now now, remember we cannot kill him,” said the Draconian. “The Queen’s orders.”

“She gets all the fun,” the Barbarian hissed. “Fine, if we cannot kill him we will show him pain he never thought existed. What do you say to that pretty boy?”

“I’d say these odds are hardly fair,” Darshun quipped, fancifully throwing back his hair. “So I’ll tell you what, I’ll keep my eyes closed. That way you all will have at least a slight chance of beating me.”

“Ha!” laughed one of the men. “Don’t you know who we are?”

Darshun looked to him in amusement. “Why of course…the ‘Six Fools.’ ”

The warrior threw his arm up clenching a fist. “Insolent creature! Each of us has been trained in the Fighting Arts, reaching the level of Master. We’ve destroyed countless lives. A weakling like you shall just be another!”

“Are you through babbling? Because I am ready.” He closed his eyes.

Feeling annoyed by Darshun’s arrogance they slowly surrounded him, stepping closer and closer each passing second, then remained in their place, eyes’ strictly bent on him.

All grew quiet, the crowd, High Wizard and Prince eagerly awaiting the battle. A gust of wind passed, and abruptly the two champions—one Human, one Cullach—swung their weapons at Darshun’s head, attempting to split his skull in two different parts.

He sidestepped, swung his sword twice, once left another right and they fell to his feet face down, bodies throbbing. Still having his eyes closed Darshun stepped away, so the blood wouldn’t touch his shoes.

For the crowd, along with the fellow Champions, it seemed difficult to tell where he’d gotten them, for his speed could not be followed. Both the Barbarian and Draconian set a foot under their bellies and rolled them over to find two slashes aligned down the center of their foreheads and to their groins.

crossingforbiddenlines_authorJ.W.Baccaro is the author of the Guardian Series. In his free time he enjoys literature—fiction and non-fiction, playing electric guitar in the heavy metal band Rigor Hill, Consciousness and NDE studies, and thinking how to intertwine his thoughts about the world’s myths, legends and distinct truths into his novels. He lives in upstate NY with his wife Melissa, his son Alexander, his two German Shepherds and his three cats.

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