The Black Commander

Exiles, also known as the 'Forgotten', were criminals that had been
universally excommunicated by their countries and had a magical seal that
represented that they shan't be accepted into any other either and, if they
wished to, could kill them on sight. Their names would be scraped away
from all texts and documents and only engraved into the book of eternal
sinners. The Forgotten One didn't believe his expulsion was right, but he
accepted it as it came, and he was hardly affected by it. He wore lightweight
clothing that was grey in color consisting of a shirt, a short cape and ripped
trousers that looked like they would disintegrate any moment, alongside a
black facemask with only holes to see and breathe.

He trekked his way to Vainglory, a communion of Forgotten who banded

together shortly after the Rapture. It was far away from where he had found
his new life, but he knew had to go. He marched over the cliffside to find
hundreds of Exaltian corpses ripped in half, the modus operandi of the
Stone Cold Hellmuth, Son of The Staunch. He was a ruthless but
boneheaded fighter that would be no easy matchup for the Forgotten One.
No matter, he was ready. He took steady steps and suddenly, the cliff
rumbled as if it would fall any second.

Not a moment after he pulled out his greatsword did the giant show up in
front of his eyes. Their fight was heavily lopsided, and the Forgotten One
knew fighting for any longer would mean certain death. Thus, he rolled the
dice and jumped off the cliff straight into the depths of the Garla, the most
ruthless body of water that ever existed. Not even the most talented sailors
would dare sail their ships in the tainted sea. For a moment, he had
forgotten why he was even there. But as Garla’s waters embraced him, he
remembered.
After the controversial crowning of the first Empress Illana in one of the
most powerful countries of Exaltia called Argostar. Under the erroneous
beliefs that Argostar had weakened, enemy kingdoms finally waged war on
Argostar. This led to allies of Argostar fighting back and thus ensuing
decades of fighting over land and power. Kings stomped over Kings to usurp
the throne and become the first God-Emperor, and widows and widowers
wept together over the brutal outcome of the treacherous wars. The God of
Death laughed in hysterics as he harvested the souls of all that died
indiscriminately, whether innocent or guilty. while a massive force
patiently waited to take it all away from humanity. And it was the most
legendary fight that would spark the reckoning of humanity.

The clash of the Mavericks and Lynxians was believed to be the most
legendary war in history. They had each earned the title of 'The Empress of
the Winds' and 'The Emperor of the Lands' respectively. And although this
allowed Lynxians to maintain ground near permanently, the Mavericks had
a trick up their sleeves and he was called 'The Black Commander'. Although
now he is no more than a myth, his power could never be overestimated. A
prodigy and a noble warrior and a gentleman. Even at an age as young as
four, he wanted to serve the army. Despite being ridiculed for air sickness
(that he never got over) and poor piloting skills, he was one of the most
brilliant sword fighters on land. Legend says that he could defeat dozens
upon dozens of men on his own because of his raw strength and stamina
alone. He himself raised a dozen prodigious students for his battalion.

The Mavericks were so full of themselves that they only had thirteen land
troops against the strongest armies on land. The kingdoms met over the
kingdom of Eagleroar and its corresponding castle. It was built over the
cliffside which gave an equal chance to fight in the winds, lands or seas. The
Black Commander's battalion breezed through Eagleroar, No attack would
work against them and soon enough they would rush the castle.
It was then that a catastrophe had occurred — The Rifts of The Eldritch had
opened. The Eldritch were monsters from lands far away that preyed over
The Exalt, humans born in the realm Exaltia for they harbored their food
called 'grace'. Grace was the lifeblood of Exaltia, it birthed life, guided
Exalts, provided them the world of sorcery and much more but for the
Eldritch it's merely food and power.

The First Rift opened in the bowels of the castle, and it spawned Ezekiel the
Staunch, a highly-respected warrior among the Eldritch and like the Black
Commander, was a one-man army. He eliminated whatever remains of the
Lynxians and waited patiently for the Maverick men to step in. Even for the
Commander's troops he was too strong to defeat. For the first time the
Commander experienced loss, and Ezekiel exploited this fact against him.
While his men perished, he was left half dead for centuries in a small dark
room. He failed his men and was left by his army. He was abandoned by life;
by grace. And all he could do now was rot in a room darker than void and
strike those who come next that make the wrong step. He learnt to control
the gusts of wind, wreaking havoc over those that got too close, or were met
by his Lordsworn Greatsword's rustic blade.

Eagleroar wasn't the only kingdom that would suffer. More and more Rifts
ruptured and the war between the Exalts and the Eldritch would be named
"The Rapture" throughout the realm. The Rapture broke humanity, the
Eldritch swallowed grace from countries and only became more powerful,
but it wasn't an effortless attack. Exalts fought back with great efforts but
to no avail. Decades upon decades passed and the Commander waited till his
time was up, but it never came. However, the Forgotten One wanted to
prove that he was not just a myth.
By the blessings of grace, the Forgotten One survived. He washed upon a
shore, and when he woke up he saw large hunting crabs ready to feast, but
he believed in the contrary.

The crabmeat sizzled as the sun set. But as time passed the Forgotten One
could hear heavy footsteps. When he turned around, he saw another Exile.
He had worn heavy steel armor that had an insignia of a fallen country. He
had long brown hair and blue eyes that nearly matched starlight. "I saw you
fight those crabs, fellow Exile. The name's Tarkin. Say, did you wash up
here from Garla? How do you even begin to explain that?Anyway, I was
getting very hungry. I was thinking that you could give me some of that,
and I can help you on your quest."

The Forgotten One tossed a cooked crab over to Tarkin and shooed him
away. After seeing the status of Vainglory, he couldn’t trust anyone except
himself. "Not a single word, eh? Whatever, thanks for the crab, bonehead."
Tarkin scoffed and left. The Forgotten One sighed quietly and ate peacefully.

The next day, The Forgotten One needed a new blade. He had lost his blade
while he fell unconscious. He created a stone dagger for the moment
instead. While exploring, he found an occupied ruin. It was controlled by a
tiny regiment of Derrick Soldiers. He knew that if he showed himself, he
would be executed on site. Forgotten Exiles have a magical marker on them,
laid by the Head Templars. They were extremely difficult — perhaps nearly
impossible to remove and required great knowledge and magical strength.

He sloppily sneaked through the bushes to make it to a lone soldier. He

looked like a general of the regiment, but he was a decoy. However, this
thought didn't pop up in his head, the lack of a trusty greatsword drove him
mad. And so, he pierced his throat and assassinated the decoy, raising the
alarm. He quickly grabbed his sword and although it was only a shortsword,
it was better than a crumbling dagger.

He was surrounded by Derrick Soldiers, but for some reason, the Forgotten
One smiled in the face of death. He scoffed, throwing his enemies off.
Without wasting a second, he slashed apart half the regiment with ease. His
limbs were swifter than the fiercest of winds and mind sharper than the
finest of swords and the harshest of tongues combined. To many men and
women alike, he was considered to be one of the most handsome men that
ever entered Exaltia's colosseum. Consequently, his sword fighting and
charisma was of utmost brilliance. He grew up idolizing the great
Commander, and pursued the fame of Exaltia with his brilliant mind. He
isolated the remaining guards, slaying them one by one. It was gruesome,
morbid and brutal, but ask any swordmaster and it was nothing short of a
beautiful sight. His way of sword fighting was nothing short of an art itself.

It wasn't long till he was the last man standing. He entered the ruin, in
hopes of finding a map. The ruin was like a labyrinth, highly damaged and
dark... creepily dark. He explored till he saw mild light, which grew brighter
and brighter. It led to the Colonel's office. Inside, the Colonel was terrified,
he hadn't spilled blood in over a decade. He had pulled out his greatsword. It
was as dull and old as the man himself.. The Forgotten One barged in, which
scared the Colonel to his death. In his office, he found several maps that as a
whole shaped the entire realm of Exaltia. He didn't need all of them, but he
took them all just in case he would get injured. He had known all too well
how good maps were for rags.

He noticed a chest hidden away and although he was morally conflicted, he

opened the dead Colonel's chest to find a beautiful greatsword. It looked
like it was made moments earlier, it was extremely sharp, surprisingly
light, and had a comfortable hilt that felt like it was made from him, and not
the Colonel. Also, the greatsword was embedded with a firestone gem, but
he couldn't find a use for that — The Forgotten One had never used magic
as it was barred in the Colosseum.

Sufficiently prepared, he was ready for another round against the stone
giant. The Forgotten One had looted the ruin, just to find Tarkin at dusk,
looking down on the corpses. "I didn't expect you to survive. You surprised
me again." Tarkin said, "But let's be honest. These guys weren't worth a
single piece of gold. Bribing them was not worth it." He continued, spitting
on a corpse. Despite being an exile, the Forgotten One was enraged by
Tarkin's actions. His crime wasn't murder, it was bastardly lust after all. He
brandished his sword, challenging Tarkin to a duel.

"No. I don't respect you, not one bit. And I reject your duel. Unlike me, You
will remain forgotten forever… So why waste time and energy on you?" He
laughed, spitting on the Forgotten One and walking away again. His anger
nearly got to him but he contained himself, respecting his own honor.

The Forgotten One moved onwards to the north, where Eagleroar resided. It
would take many days for the Forgotten One to reach the entrance. The
nights he spent were very lonely, a feeling he hadn't felt ever after the
month of being exiled. He had failed his objective. Tarkin dwelled within his
mind endlessly; he wanted to duel Tarkin and defeat him.

After a week worth of traveling and hunting, he made it to the entrance of

Eagleroar — The Eagle's Nest. It donned a giant statue of a hunting eagle,
portraying dominance. The long dead emperor of Eagleroar belonged to a
dynasty of passionate bird lovers and it showed in real life. Their love for
birds could only last so long without shedding blood and Lynxia was much
better at it than them.
Eagleroar was mostly barren of humanity, most life were wandering
zombies and exiles (who were considered subhuman for their crimes). The
majority of humanity that once resided in the kingdom now dwelled in the
Nest. The Forgotten One was clearly not welcome; but he didn't mind it, it
would mean he wouldn't need to waste time over spending sentimental
moments with others. Some of the denizens disagreed, leading rashly
rushed attacks and meeting a greatsword's blade.

The Forgotten One was annoyed at this point. He had no ill-will against
anyone and all he did in life was for self-sustenance or self-defense; as an
exile at least. Every time he would think that he would get close to his final
destination a blockade would spring up, hindering progress. He ruthlessly
slashed through anyone that would get in his way whether it was the
victim's intent or not. It killed many and he only realized what he had done
when a child yelled — "Monster!". He turned back. He saw the carnage he
caused. His heart sulked.

He ran away as fast as possible to protect himself from the shame, but
shame caught up to his noble heart, and he sunk deeper and deeper into the
pits of guilt. Regardless, he pulled through. Only within a few hours did he
enter the Eagleroar Castle. It hadn't looked so dilapidated and disgraceful
ever before, and the Forgotten One was all for it. He was thrilled to fight the
heartless creature that dwelled within for real this time; As he had become
one as well. And of course, find out where the Black Commander is. The
castle's courtyard was completely barren of life. Stones, bricks and dirt were
the only things the Forgotten One could possibly see. He sensed a rumble
nearby, and soon saw a familiar friend and foe.

Hellmuth was finishing off Tarkin.

"You! You're back! Save me from this monster! Please!"

"You, foul Exile... How dare you live?! How dare you come to my father's
grounds? You are pitiful and reek of shame. Grace has blessed the wrong
souls — Do not fret, I will leech it all from you all at once this time!" He
said, ripping Tarkin in half. Hellmuth was a giant Eldritch. He was
humanoid, had brown hair but no facial hair and a narrow face overall. His
skin was greyer than rock and stronger than mountains. He wore a black,
shrouded robe with brown cloth for his lower body. Nothing about his look
was pleasing and especially so after his battle with the Forgotten One. A
deep diagonal scar ran down across his face through and through along
with a variety of ugly slash marks throughout his chest. He leapt towards
the Forgotten One, swinging his giant wooden club at him.

"You couldn't kill me, what makes you think you can slay Father? You
disgust me with your audacity. He shall never feel your presence for I will
end you in a matter of seconds!" Hellmuth insulted him, not focusing on
the fight entirely. The Forgotten One couldn't care less about Hellmuth's
harsh tongue, he was determined to finally slay Hellmuth and find the
legend. Hellmuth was a tough opponent then and now, but he was a
predictable opponent. Once he went out of control of his senses — He would
become an easy target. The Forgotten One swiped at his legs, trying to
shatter his skin but it was brutal. His body would barely budge.

"You remain foolish! I must admit, I thought that you were my toughest
opponent. But after my legs? You are the same as the others. But remain
alive for much longer than the previous ones ever were." Hellmuth
sarcastically laughed. Clearly, he had no honor for the battle. Not letting
him get under his skin, The Forgotten One attacked from the front, for the
eyes. It was hard to jump so high. Hellmuth was more than twice the height
he was. However, he persisted. It was especially harder with Hellmuth's
unending attacks but the Forgotten One finally had a plan. It was
dishonorable from the start, but he knew there would be no turning back
after his crimes. So, he went forth.

Hellmuth grew frustrated as the Forgotten One stopped attacking and

evaded his attacks. When he thought he could finally kill the human, he
slammed his club on the ground with full force, missing again. Before he
could lift his weapon the Forgotten One climbed it. He was atop his club and
finally — He jumped.

With one fell swing, Hellmuth's eyes were gone. Bewildered, he ran
throughout the courtyard in great pain. His end? Running at the end of the
line, straight off the cliff the castle stood on. He fell head-on, causing it to
get crushed the instant he landed. Although the Forgotten One failed to earn
the achievement of slaying Hellmuth with his new sword, slaying a great
Eldritch was an achievement that only one in a hundred thousand ever
achieves.

He went inside the castle’s hallways, clearing every room floor by floor.
Meanwhile, Ezekiel woke from his years long slumber, sensing a great
disbalance in the force.

Nearly every room was boring and barren except for a few that harbored a
few undead. However, there was one room that was different. A room that
was too dark to feel real. The darkness it had wasn't the lack of light. It was
a void of crushing defeat and it stunk of disappointment. He attempted to
light a torch in the room, but it would die instantly and emit a ghastly
groan, as if the souls of the condemned would resist its flame. If the legend
were true, he would be remembered by all till the end of time. He entered
the room without fear, in a near instant he sensed a blade. A mere fraction
of a second later he would've perished like all the others; but he guarded on
time.
"LEAVE!" The voice commanded. The Forgotten One couldn't help himself
but ask.

“Why?” A solemn, sulking voice responded.

The blade felt lighter on his own, but the voice struck down his sword even
stronger. Any stronger, and the Forgotten One's blade might as well break.
"LEAVE! THIS IS MY PUNISHMENT!" The voice yelled.

"Your men's deaths weren't your fault." The Forgotten One asserted, "Your
army failed your squadron... Not you." He continued. The darkness felt
weaker and light pierced through the room. Suddenly, he could see a sliver
of the Black Commander's helmet. "It was Ezekiel. Not you. It was the
Eldritch that have rained Hel upon our lands. They will pay. His son has
already fallen. He must as well." The Forgotten One said.

The attack stopped — "Hellmuth... He has fallen?" The commander asked.

"Yes. Your heart sinks for your men. I can sense it. Let go of the guilt and
avenge them." The Forgotten One said.

The Black Commander lit a dead torch and hung it on a wall lighting the
room with hope; he put his hands on the Forgotten One's shoulders —
"Those men were just like you. Young… Fearless… but also Greedy. They
would slip past Hellmuth and then fall to my blade as they tried to ransack
this brittle fortress. You're the first to survive, I assume you felled
Hellmuth?"

The Forgotten One stayed silent. "Your silence is comforting. Ezekiel... That
vile beast kept me alive on purpose. His son's death must have awakened
him. We need to get out before confronting him." The Black Commander
ordered.
Outside the castle, the skies turned dark and red. It wasn't a good sign, a
supreme being was raving mad. Unfazed were The Black Commander and
The Forgotten One. They stood their ground, awaiting the Staunch. But they
didn't need to wait for long. Unlike his son, Ezekiel was deceptively
handsome. He had aged well over the centuries. He had white hair and a
long beautiful white beard. He wore armor no other being could wear, it was
plated with gold on the edges and much of it had engraving of the stories of
his greatest victories. He had a giant hammer made of the finest of steels,
and a giant horse covered in chainmail and gold as his mount.

"It is a good day to have a fight to the death, worthless Exalts. Although, I
must admit. You have made the wrong choice, O’ Faceless One. This will not
end with peace — You shall suffer a ten-fold… No, a hundred-fold of what
you let my son endure. You will not perish until you have paid the price!"
Ezekiel said, grasping the powers of lightning. He struck, barely missing
both of his opponents.

"His lightning might kill you instantly. Watch it." The Black Commander
advised, his bones rusted and cried for help from the still life he lived for
centuries.

The Forgotten One rushed to strike his mount. It dodged his attacks with
ease and trampled and kicked him over. "Pathetic. This is what killed my
son?!" Ezekiel yelled, causing blood rain. The Forgotten One suppressed the
pain and rose up, he spotted the Black Commander fighting at the same
level as the supreme Eldritch despite being much weaker. It inspired him to
continue. Unlike the other entities, The Forgotten One wasn't one with
magic. He had never wielded it, let alone understood it at all.

The Black Commander's magic usage was impeccable, he perfectly

countered Ezekiel's lightning with his own power of the winds but it just
wasn't enough. Ezekiel's horse stomped the Black Commander tirelessly. "I
should have killed you with those pathetic mutts. No... You should've rotted
away in that dark room of pity you made for yourself. However, I am
merciful. You have lived longer than any human I've ever seen. Now cease!"
Ezekiel shouted, angering the Forgotten One. He went berserk, charging
into Ezekiel. His anger was so furious, his hands lit his sword on fire. This
fury wasn't quantifiable like others. It was so terrifying that Ezekiel's heart
skipped a beat.

"Flame, Grant me strength! For I will slay this beast at once!" The
Forgotten One roared, setting his sword on fire.

Why? Why does a mere human care for another so much? They all lived for
such a short life, why bother? Why not save the pitiful time they were
granted with? Ezekiel sifted through the questions quickly and put the Black
Commander's execution to a screeching halt, he had to survive to continue
with it after all. The sword struck his horse perfectly. He yelled at his horse
telling it to endure the hit but it was useless. The wound burnt through its
entire body and fell. His horse turned to ashes soon after. Ezekiel could only
look at the damage one strike did.

"Very good... I will fight you fairly. But not with this hammer. It's too slow...
You would just dodge every attack, wouldn't you, exile?" He said. Ezekiel
stood over the Forgotten One while the Black Commander could only watch.
Ezekiel was nearly quadruple the size of the Forgotten One. However, his
anger trumped over the fear Ezekiel laid upon him. Ezekiel tossed his
hammer on the Black Commander — keeping him grounded as he fought
the Forgotten One. He pulled out a large battle ax, and created a replica
made of lightning. Electricity ebbed throughout Ezekiel.

Ezekiel became godly.

"Isn't this better?" Ezekiel took a deep breath and smiled, instantly
attacking the Forgotten One as his smile turned into rage. With the exile’s
new found power, he attempted to channel the fury into something fruitful.
He set his heart and mind ablaze, literally. His heart would work faster than
ever, for it was literally teetering on a bridge of life and death, it would beat
twice when it would only beat once, his mind had unlocked new ways to
think inside, and his limbs felt lighter and faster than ever.

The fire was too painful to allow him to be cautious and whatever finesse he
had, had perished along with it. Any ill-performed twitch and his grounded
ally would be caught in the crossfire. He was a different being with his heart
on fire. He was determined to win, no matter what. The battle brought
catastrophe. The thunderous lightning and the fountains of fire brought
down the castle to nothing but rubble.

All while the Black Commander watched and his body got slowly crushed.

He grew tired of watching and watching as the Forgotten One traded hit
after hit on the supreme being. With all of his might, he moved the hammer,
its weight felt as heavy as a mountain. But with enough effort, he managed
to move it inch by inch. He braced himself and rose up again, for all three of
them might perish in what could be the greatest battle the continent had
ever seen. He conjoined his winds with the Forgotten One's newly found
flames.

Ezekiel was worried, and sweat dripped the determined pair was much more
powerful than he estimated. Normally, wind kills fire, but the fire bred more
fire with the help of the winds. Strike after strike, Ezekiel's resilience ran
drier than ever, while the duo doubled down. The fire became so strong that
it melted Ezekiel's armor. He couldn't focus, the armor that once protected
him from alien gods was now the reason he might as well die. The engraved
steels seeped deep into his skin; thinking while in such a situation was
impossible. His lightning battle ax was progressively weakened and life
slowly left his body.

Ezekiel was defeated.

"No... No! Don't kill me. I have already lost. There's no point in killing me.
The wrongs I did were during the war, not after. Show mercy, won't you,
Exalts?" He pleaded, but they were deaf to it. The Forgotten One looked at
the Black Commander eagerly, ready for Ezekiel to be executed. Ezekiel
attempted to trick the duo with a last hurrah — He tried to channel a
powerful lightning strike. But the Black Commander took his head off
before it struck.

Ezekiel's body shriveled up entirely, like dried raisins. Hundreds of souls

left his body, returning to the land they belonged to. Some of them stopped,
as if they were thanking the duo for freeing them. His (and his horse's)
armor and his weapons remained.

Eldritch beings usually fade into their own realm, and turn to dust when
they die. The only exceptions are when an Eldritch would have eaten too
much grace to return, and instead become husks of what they were before.
The blood rain stopped, and they took whatever remained of Ezekiel to
bring it to the newly found government. It would make them eternal heroes.

"You finally avenged them." The Forgotten One said, taking a deep breath
in, sadistically enjoying the fresh bloody smell of the air.

"We did. Now that we can breathe… Who are you? You reek of curse."
"I am just an exile who was looking for you, I used to be a swordfighter. The
Exaltian Army exiled me because of my charms, if you get what I mean,
Sir."

"That is a shame, maybe this head will change their opinions?" He

chuckled, lifting Ezekiel's head.

The Forgotten One and The Black Commander went back to Exaltia's capital
city, Wysteria; named directly after the locally exclusive tree of the region.
The guards were ready to shoot their bows at the Forgotten One because of
his seal, but they noticed the legend himself. Bystanders who saw the Black
Commander with an exile were distraught by the scenario. What was now a
proven myth doing with an exile? It caught the attention of the city quickly.
Prompting the Governor of the jurisdiction to see the commotion for
himself. Even he couldn't believe his eyes — Especially after seeing
Ezekiel's remains. "We need Her Holiness. This is out of our hands! Ezekiel
the Staunch has finally fallen!" He celebrated, causing the crowd to erupt.

The entirety of Exaltia soon knew what had happened and Her Holiness
invited both of them into her court. She had grown much older and even
wiser than that last time we saw her. It was only the blessings of grace,
which had left her alive since then. When she was crowned, she was merely
a girl. Now, she was the God-Emperor. They kneeled before Her, but She
asked them not to. "Exile, We are willing to forgive you of your crimes and
you will be accepted by the people again. And you, the Black Commander as
people call you, continue to live after disappearing for centuries. I am
anything but surprised, knowing your tale. We welcome you back to Exaltia.
It is different from what it was before, but it will heal and you have hastened
the healing process. The Eldritch do not belong here. They will soon return
to their realm if their leaders perish. The execution of a supreme Eldritch
proves that they no longer have power over us and now they know as well.
You are heroes of Exaltia; no longer are you abandoned by grace. Rise, and
help Exaltia regain its former glory. This time, as one."

She rid the exile of his seal and rewarded them with whatever they wanted.
The Black Commander lifted his helmet off of his head, revealing a person
who had barely aged. Although he looked no older than the Forgotten One,
he had grown a large black and white beard and hair and had fair
complexion. He had bloodshot eyes and he felt completely rotten on the
inside. However, he finally felt accomplished. He fell on the ground
immediately. "I am so tired..." He said, falling asleep.

The Forgotten One, now celebrated as the Chosen One, went on the path of
slaying Eldritch across Exaltia with his master and restoring the homes of
Exaltians they lived in before. The Black Commander entered the afterlife
soon after their conquest was over, as he passed by his friend and his death
was known throughout Exaltia and even outside of it for his valor along
with the Chosen One. Millions mourned for him, and is still remembered as
one of the greatest men to have ever lived.

He, from birth was a legend, then a myth, to a living legend.

The Chosen One, still bloodthirsty but stronger than ever, traveled to the
Eldritch world to end what they started — Leaving him to an unknown fate.