Once Upon A Dark Lord

I was out of place in that company. A simple farmer, among the great and the good of three races. I kept looking down at my dirty, stained hands and back up at them. I didn’t fit.

The elf lords from the far off lands were the most beautiful beings I had ever seen. Tall and fine, they moved with a grace that looked like dancing, even if they were just pouring wine. I felt so clunky in their presence.

Dwarven lords, on the other hand, were as solid and unyielding as the mountains they hailed from. They were clad in layers of leathers and iron, thick armor that chimed as they moved. Though half the height of the elves, they looked at least four times as strong.

The humans didn’t stand out compared to the other two. They were quiet, withdrawn in the presence of those long-lived peoples who had called this conclave. My own king was among their number, but I couldn’t approach him. I was set aside.

I had been the one to find it, while picking stones in my brother’s field. I didn’t know what it was at first when I pulled it from the dirt. A black iron rod, as long as my arm, with a multi-faceted crystal topping it. It felt hot to my touch, despite being buried. I took it to my village headman and the priest, and they went white. They knew what it was.

Long ago, the Dark Lord was cast down from his terrible throne. His scepter, his instrument of rule, was taken by the victors, and soon lost to history. I had found it again, and all the great powers of the world feared the Dark Lord would rise again now that it was found. I was only invited to the conclave because they feared that the more people who touched it, the faster he would find out about it.

An elf lord was telling us about the last war against the Dark Lord. How he had stood with his troops against the evil that spilled forth from the blackened and burned lands. There was something odd about what he was saying, and I felt I had to speak up.

“Excuse me,” I said in that company of lords and masters. They ignored me so I spoke again, louder. “I have a question.”

The head of the wizard conclave turned to me, gesturing everyone else to silence. His beard and robes were as gray as the smoke that rose from his pipe, but I didn’t let his age fool me. I knew he was powerful. I could tell by the way all the others fell silent at his gesture.

“You say that this needs to be destroyed because, if the Dark Lord gets it back, he will be unbeatable. Is that right?” 

“It is true, yes,” one of the elf lords replied in a voice that was at the edge of singing. “Once he grasps that in his mailed fist, it will be impossible for him to be defeated.”

“Good, I understand that. Now, my next question is, how did he lose it in the first place?”

“As to that, lad, there was a great alliance of elves, men, dwarves, wizards, and all the free people of the world,” the wizard spoke.

“I was there, commanding forces against him,” one of the elf lords replied. “Stout dwarven warriors advanced under the protection of our arrows to pull down the enemy’s fortresses and destroy his bastions.”

“We humans too, we lead cavalry raids to cut his armies to pieces in the field,” one of the human kings replied, glaring at the elder races. There was always a bit of jealousy to humans. They didn’t have the glories of the elves or the dynasties of the dwarves.

“Wizards weaved complex webs to disguise their forces, and our greatest dwarven smiths turned out powerful weapons to arm everyone. It is said that my grandfather cast the blade that was used to cut the Dark Lord’s hand from his arm, dropping that scepter to the ground.” This was one of the dwarven kings, but in the depths of their helmets and beards, I couldn’t tell which one.

“I was there when he fell,” said the greatest of the assembled elven lords. “He lost his scepter and had to retreat, falling back to the dark shadows of the world. His power was broken.”

“That’s all well and good then, but if he is unbeatable if he has the scepter…” I trailed off to see if anyone would pick up my line of questioning. They didn’t, so I was forced to continue. “...how did you all beat him?”

“We just told you,” said another of the elf lords. There was a faint annoyance in his voice.

“A great alliance of elves, dwarves…” The wizard started, but I cut him off.

“Yes, I know but… Right, so is he unbeatable if he has this.” I said as I laid my hand on the scepter. Everyone in attendance gasped at me, but I didn’t feel anything.

“Yes, he will dominate the world,” my king said to me.

“And you beat him when he had it before?”

“His army was destroyed, his places of power broken, and he fled the field in shame?”

“But he is unbeatable with it?”

“Yes, totally,” the wizard said. He was visibly annoyed at me, and sparks danced in his eyes. I sighed deeply.

“Then I shall bear the burden of the scepter. To carry it to its destruction,” I said. Everyone cheered, but they didn’t know the truth. These idiots who ruled us couldn’t possibly fathom what was so clear to me.

Stupidity like that was something easy to defeat. Maybe there was a chance for me to find a little power of my own as these imbeciles fought the forces of evil that would stir at the Dark Lord’s bidding.

And if the Dark Lord was beaten by them, what did that say about him? I tucked the scepter under my arm and rested my hand on the crystal. Maybe it was time for a new Dark Lord, a smarter one?