Once Atlas had arrived at the palace, he needed to find the stables where Hungus was being kept at. Atlas knew that the mission was suicidal. He was a good mage; he knew that. However, he only was capable of two schools of magic. One had been taught to him when he was younger by a small fairy. The school of light magic. The second he had taught himself after many years of practice. The school of earth magic.
A powerful mage that could take out multiple enemies at once could use multiple schools of magic. This would mean that Atlas was classified as an intermediate mage. Now, against royale knights? Atlas stood no chance. Even wrapping all those knights in earth magic had drowned him in fatigue.
Connecting yourself with the mana around you easily took your strength. A mage's greatest skill would then have to be their stamina even though they weren't physically strong. In a sense, a mage could be more dangerous than a fully trained knight if at a certain level.
Atlas turned around a corner and spotted King Zar, who was talking to a Royal Knight. He quickly hid behind a pillar.
"They have probably exited the palace through the tunnels. I wouldn't put it past royalty to know those existed," said King Zar.
"What do you propose we do, sire?"
"Can't you think for yourself? Oh well, I suppose it can't be helped. We need to corner them at all three exits. Understood?"
The knight saluted the king and turned to leave. The king stood there for a moment and turned to face the pillar and began to speak.
"I know you're there. Slave elf! Or rather…Atlas Woodsbarrow!"
Atlas' heart began to beat fast. Faster than it ever had before.
"Are you trying to create a war? A war between the elven kingdom and human kingdom? What you're participating in is kidnapping! Do you want your whole family to be executed? Tortured? Drawn and quartered?"
Atlas gripped his staff tightly.
"Come out, Atlas Woodsbarrow and show me what you can do!"
Atlas was at a loss of words. He didn't know what to do. He didn't realize the scale of what he had put himself into. He didn't realize he had caused problems for his family. He had just tried doing what was right and where had that gotten him? In this whole mess.
"Don't worry…only I know this information, so if you come out like a good elf…I won't tell anyone and your family will be safe. You will probably be executed, though!"
The king laughed.
At that moment, Atlas knew what he had to do. He had to kill. He had to murder this human. By doing that, he could protect his family and avoid being captured or executed. Would he be able to do that, though?
Atlas stepped forward and pointed his staff at the king.
"Lurgo-"
"Kurgo!"
A suffocating darkness surrounded Atlas. It felt like he couldn't breathe. It was as if the air in his lungs had been shot out. Atlas grabbed at his throat and stumbled back. The darkness continued to swallow him.
"L-Lurmis!"
Nothing happened.
The darkness had eaten the mana surrounding him.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in the darkness, carrying a knife. It was the king.
"I had high expectations for you. It's too bad you disappointed me."
Atlas realized he was encountering dark magic. In this world, dark countered light…so there was only one spell he could rely on. He just hoped that the darkness spell wasn't strong enough to consume it.
"Ajar!"
Atlas was lifted into the air by an earth pillar. He peered underneath him and spotted a cloud of darkness. It was almost like a smokey substance. The king had clearly set the dark spell to focus on mainly draining light instead of earth. The king wasn't strong enough to use dark magic to take out the mana of multiple elements.
"Ajarú!"
Atlas screamed the magic words for an earth bullet that formed at his staff. It flew into the darkness and hit its target. The darkness disappeared and revealed King Zar, lying on the floor. Dead. His stomach had a hole in it and his organs had been split open. Upon the sight, Atlas threw up.
Primrose stood over a dead knight, her breathing unsteady, her sword covered in blood. She leaned against the tunnel wall and sighed. After resting for a little while, she adjusted her position and began limping towards the exit.
Her arm lay still at her side. Her eyes threatened to close. After defeating thirteen opponents, her body was on the verge of giving up.
"Damn it! I'm almost there…"
A light shone from the edge of the tunnel, threatening to disappear if she didn't hurry up. Even though the goal was to capture her, the knights weren't told that they couldn't hurt the princess. Primrose knew that. She knew she couldn't let them take her down and that's why she had to kill them. She didn't do it because she liked to or because she wanted to.
She did it because she needed to survive. She took no pleasure in it.
"Atlas…damn it…you better be at the end of this tunnel…"
Primrose fell to the ground and began to crawl. After a while, she decided against it and used her sword as a walking stick. Blood oozed from the ripped fabric of her clothing. So much for not being striked.
"Ah."
She spotted a figure at the end of the tunnel. It had some sort of long stick in its hands; a robe that reached its toes. Behind it was an animal of some sorts that towered above it.
"Atlas?" she called out.
There was no reply, but the figure extended its hand and beckoned her over. Soon the sword she had used to lean on had been put back into its sheath because she broke into a sprint. She found herself jogging. Jogging towards what she thought would be her savior. She tripped and fell, but to her surprise, the figure was right in front of her now.
He had dashing features and blonde hair. His ears were long and cute. His face was confident and full of determination.
"Atlas!"
He returned her smile and threw her arm over his shoulder. He helped her onto Hungus and off they went. Primrose immediately passed out, but what she failed to notice were the many bodies of knights on the ground around the entrance of the tunnel. Many had craters near their stomachs or where their heads had been.
Many had tried to run away, but had their legs severed. As the duo galloped away, Atlas' hands trembled. He could feel the sticky feeling of blood making contact with his skin. And he could feel the gaze of the eyes, whose hue he had snuffed out. Atlas was a murderer. He was a wanted man. He was surely sentenced to death or even worse…torture. He had taken down a kingdom, a serious offense, which would have dire consequences later.
Atlas was aware he was putting his family in danger and was aware that all three generations of his family could be executed for his crimes. But he was naive and brushed it off. "I'll just tell them that it was self-defence" that was what he said he'd do.
But just how logical was Atlas' argument? Killing an entire kingdom worth of guards was all in self-defence? Even those that tried to run…was killing them self-defence as well? This is the story of an elf whose innocence was tainted. An elf who was forced into a world he didn't belong. One of corruption and misery. This is…A Tale as Old as Time.