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For an eternity, wrapped in a moment they stared and watched eachother, as if daring the other to make the first move, the decisive folly that would end the battle in one cruel blow. And though they were held torturously in this deadlock, it was Lissar who rallied first, desirious of peace, even against one who was known simply as 'the Black'.

He was Marius, and at this very moment, he stood in the center of destiny itself. It was as if everything stood upon the precipice of a moment, a single moment that would change destiny forever. And even as Marius reached out, as he saw it in his mind's eye, the moment slipped and fell away, lost forever. The tension changed in the room.

"Why, Marius?" Lissar said, her sharp senses remaining ever alert to any trick or deception. Her eyes glisened as brightly as the sword at her side. "Why do you desire a new world under your vision?"

It was semantics, to be certain, but Marius could not resist. Even if he failed to acknowledge it, words were as much a curse to him, as they were a blessing. The moment that had been lost earlier, faded to a dim spark, was now extinguished by his folly. In ages to come, none would know just how close Marius had come to achieving his goal, but soon all were to know just how far one man would go to pursue it. But as it was, the moment lived on in Marius' mind, and he reached out to embrace it, though it was but shadows.

"My dear Queen," Marius said darkly, a nimbus of necromantic power flaring in his eyes, "this world, by all rights, is and will always be nothing. I seek to remake this world into something magnificent!" It was truly the pinnacle statement that had risen him to power, but the lies that vieled his eyes meant that Marius failed to take notice of his surroundings. The subtle flicker of magic thrummed through the air, and it was not Marius' doing.

Raw power ebbed in Marius words as he continued to speak, though the words were lost to all but himself. Even now, though he claimed the kingdom and the soveriegnty before him, the pulse of magic grew, until it was almost a tangible sensation in the air, a constant feeling. To Marius, it seemed that he was the better, and that all lay before him. He strode towards the Queen, triumph evident on his features.

Even as she felt his dark presence all around her, Lissar stood her ground, firmly. Though he may have been mad with power and folly, none could deny his overwhelming assurance and dark power that permeated every fiber of his being, emnating from his dark and twisted soul.

"You alone cannot stand against my might." Marius said. The words were so bitter and fierce that they stung Lissar for a moment, and she quailed, fearing him to be true. But in her heart, she rallied, knowing that the good and the Virtues would always triumph over all.

"I am not alone!" She cried triumphantly, raising her sword high.

And in this moment, assembled around her were the heroes of Britannia of many faces and skills, and each stood proudly behind their leige. To the left and the right of the Queen herself stood Lord Joram and Lord Seon, the most esteemed knights in Lissars' retinue.

"Your darkness will never taint the land, cretin." Seon promised, courage fierce in his eyes.

"Upon my blood, we all shall fight against you, unto the death." Joram said solemnly, raising a fist into the air. He was greeted with the cries of those behind him, as they rallied around their monarch.

"What say you now, Marius?" Lissar said triumphantly, even as the Necromancer recoiled before the assemblage. In his bewilderment, he hadn't noticed Bronwyn and a few others, patiently opening and closing gates to funnel more heroes into the throne room. To Marius, they had just come from nowhere.

When he had regained his composure, he stood upright, staff in hand. It would take more than these heroes to destroy him, of that he was sure, but to stand against them now was folly. The always arrogant man had no words to say, no pride left as the jeers and taunts and cries of victory by Lissar and her entourage sped his flight from the castle, shame building a well of pure hatred in his soul.

By the Virtues, he would make them pay!

Even as he fled the courtyard, and approached the city gates, a lone figure halted his progress. Masked in the shadows of the flagstones, the man flashed a dark smile as he leaned up against the gate, cooly greeting the humbled necromancer.

"Dark one," said the shadowy figure, "we need to talk."

I love this story - it gets better with every chapter.