Underaged One

[WP] You're the villain that the Chosen One is meant to defeat. Once they arrive, you notice they're just a teenager who barely knows how to swing a sword. Angered by your opponents sending children to do all their dirty work, you decide to help the teen get revenge.

*****

The castle courtyard rang with a cacophony of sounds - the clash of steel on steel; desperate shouts; the shrieks, hisses and roars of unknown creatures; and the quiet whimpers of the dying.

Two humans whirled in a frenzy of steel and carnage - sword and spear flashing, gore flying, as they desperately tried to keep their heads above the endless tide of misshapen monstrosities flooding in from all sides. For every one the duo cut down, seemingly four would take its place; exacting their revenge cut by cut on the duo.

One of the humans went down, slammed into the flagstones with a scream by a charging monstrosity, just as his companion whirled around and impaled the massive beast in the side with his sword. Sensing an opening, other creatures surged in with a flurry of rending claws, piercing horns, and burning fury.

The human on the floor never stood a chance, not even managing to scream as the nightmarish forms began to tear into his prone form, his spear ripped from his hands.

The sole remaining warrior bellowed in rage, snapping his sword in half as he tried to pull the blade free of the creature's body. Without hesitation, he pulled out a dagger and continued his relentless assault against the wall of flesh and claws besieging him. Alas, without his companion to watch his back, he, too was soon felled.

As his lifeblood drained away on the black flagstones, time seemed to slow to a crawl as the dying warrior took in the scene before him - the fallen and broken forms of his companions - the spearman, the archer, the cleric, the mage - and the now-stilled ranks of the monsters parted as a black-robed and hooded figure silently glided over to him.

Then the darkness took him.

The first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was black stone. A black stone ceiling, to be exact. Lying face-up on some sort of bedding. He tried to get up, but found no strength in his body.

A startled noise, along with a metallic clatter beside him made his head snap in that direction - with a momentary flaring of pain and dizziness - as he beheld a white-robed, pig-snouted creature backing away with its hands held in a warding gesture, sheer terror reflected in its eyes. He reflexively tried to draw his sword to cut down the abomination, only to find his hands and feet were bound. With a squeal, the creature bolted from the room, running past a row of beds upon which lay four rather familiar figures.

Grimacing at the pain, he gave up struggling against his bonds, gritting his teeth and reciting a silent prayer to the gods to give him strength to resist whatever foul torture or desecration-

Why are you here?

The voice, more a whisper, asked. He didn't have to crane his neck to know that it came from the black robed and hooded figure that had materialised at the foot of his bed.

"Release me, foul demon!" he cried. "I will purge every last one of you abominable beasts-"

You will not speak of my people in that manner, invader. The figure commanded, power coursing through its voice, causing the warrior's jaw to clamp shut. You invaded our lands, killed, maimed and injured many of our people - for what cause?

" You.. I know you - you are the Black King," he spat. "The source of the foul magicks and demonic beasts that plague the land-"

Again, I will not tolerate you speaking of our *peoples** in that manner. You and your little band, rampaging through our villages, slaughtering our peoples, trying to storm my castle - what exactly did you think you were trying to accomplish?*

"We are on a holy quest to exterminate you, the Black King! Only by doing so will we rid the land of demons!" the warrior screamed, straining against his restraints. "I will avenge my fallen comrades-"

Your companions yet live. We have tended to their wounds, if you had bothered to notice.

At this, the warrior glanced to his side - to see the sleeping forms of his four companions, swathed in bandages.

"What trickery is this?!" he demanded, confused.

There is no trickery here, replied the Black King, waving several white robed, pig-snouted figures into the room - orcs, thought the warrior - as they bustled about, replacing bandages, tending to the humans, eliciting a couple groans from the prone - but clearly alive - figures.

We are not demonic or bestial as you may have been told, continued the Black King. We are merely a grouping of refugees, people's of various races, trying to eke out a living in our little pocket of land, surrounded by hostile kingdoms.

You may have noticed during your rampage, that we didn't even have an army to stop you - those you met were merely villagers, farmers, families. Those you cut down within the walls of my sanctuary were but pilgrims and servants. Notice that none carried arms, much less armour - and that none of them even sought to attack you first. We are but a peaceful collection of peoples - even now, we are tending to your wounds.

And so I ask again, what is your purpose for invading?

"I-" the warrior faltered. "We were given a holy quest to defeat the Black King, to liberate the land of demons.... The High King himself gave us this holy mission!"

Ah, so the human High King commanded you so? To "liberate" these lands? By labeling us monsters, demons did they persecute against and drive us from our old homes several generations ago, forcing us to flee to this blighted wasteland that they might claim our lands, our resources... Forcing us to seek refuge in these blighted lands where your High Kings had forsaken. And now, out of greed for more power, more land, they seek to displace us again?

Only this time, your High Kings were foolish enough to send a measly five - *FIVE!** - youths, you poor youths - barely even adults, and poorly equipped - to do their dirty bidding?*

The warrior, his youthful face still rounded by the baby fat around his cheeks, could barely muster a rebuttal to this new revelation. "But... But... The High King... He said you are abominations..."

The Black King threw his head back in sibilant, whispering laughter.

Such are the lies told, even generations later, to reinforce the discrimination against our peoples. Did any of the kingdoms suffer losses, villages razed, people slaughtered - to actual demons? Or were they the result of border conflicts between your own kingdoms? Did you lose anyone to an actual "monster" or "demon", as you call us?

"N-no... But-"

And there you have it.

With a wave of the Black King's hand, the warrior's restraints fell away. The warrior got up tentatively, wincing at the pain of his wounds.

This castle is a sanctuary of healing - not a bastion of evil, like the lies you were fed. Rest, and heal, young one. Once you are well enough, there is much to talk about.

*****

THE END