Saviour Of Skylein

• James McVitty, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2011

The siege on the city of Skylein was heavy. A boy named Tyler fled to the castle with the rest of the men. He pushed open the doors with his back, seeing Princess Kyra sitting on her throne, guarded by big men in black armour.
“You are Tyler, yes?” she asked as he entered. “Please. Come here.” Tyler strode over to the red carpet, trimmed with gold, leading to the throne. He knelt before the princess as she walked over to him.
“Your highness?” he mumbled, lost in her beauty. Her light brown hair came down to her breast, her blue eyes shining brightly. Her royal dress stretched down to the ground.
“Tyler, I am in need of a bodyguard. Verzzan, the king of Lockhell is coming. He comes to destroy Skylein.”
“I’ll help. I’ll defeat him.” Tyler said heroically.
She nodded, and simply said “Come.” placing a hand on his wound, creating an aura of light, healing it almost completely. They circled around to the back of her throne, revealing a unique sword, resting in a pedestal. The ancient language was etched into the blade.

“It is said that the legendary hero, the Saviour of Skylein, can pull the Sword of Spirit and defeat the evil King of Darkness, Verzzan. I believe this hero is you.” She nodded toward the sword, and Tyler approached it. He grasped the hilt of the weapon, standing on the pedestal.

He pulled upward as hard as he could. He could feel the sword moving in his grip. It wasn’t long before the sword was fully out of its resting place, Tyler holding the weapon high in the air, amazed that what the princess said was true.

Princess Kyra came around behind him, cinching together a steel chest plate, and handed him gauntlets and boots while she attached greaves to his legs. She rose and looked upon his armoured form. She had a grim look of horror on her face as the doors burst open.

“He’s here.” She said as a dark figure clad in gunmetal-silver armour entered. His flowing black cape suddenly spread, and pierced the door guards in their chests. The being was followed by three dark creatures. This was Verzzan.

“Princess. Hand over your city, or face death.” He spoke in his strangely comprehensible foreign language.

“Not if I can help it!” yelled Tyler as he charged Verzzan. The latter magically materialized a dark long-sword, etched with the writings of his people. The two warriors clashed together, Verzzan pushing Tyler away. The former called him foolish and attacked with his own blade.

The two clanged their swords together repeatedly, up high, to the side, down low, everywhere. Tyler struggled against the power of the Dark King. Verzzan cut Tyler’s forearm, causing him to shriek loudly. The latter came around the back of Verzzan and performed an uppercut, knocking the Dark King away.

“Tyler!” shouted Kyra as the swordsmen battled. Tyler halted his assault, turning to her. She was pointing at the glass window above her throne. Dawn. A strange sunbeam moved along the ground until it hit Tyler’s shoe. It continued until it reached the blade of his sword. The weapon shone brightly, powered up by the power of light. He shrieked as he charged Verzzan again, running him through in the process.

Verzzan cried out in pain, falling to the ground. His body dissipated, leaving a cloud of ash behind, surrounding his severed helmet. Skylein had been saved from the darkness which haunted it.
Tyler’s legend went down in history; the great hero never forgotten.