The Legend of Fatality

Checking the hair cut out a deep breath, woke up.

He was lying on a luxurious four-poster bed, and he could hear the birds singing morning songs outside. Sunlight came through the arched windows, and the gentle breeze blew the breath of spring into the bedroom with high ceilings.

He swings his legs from the bed and looks around in confusion. At the end of his bed, an open box was filled with his clothes, and only half of the quail and duck ate, lying on a silver plate on the side table. His armor hung on a wooden stand in the corner of the room, and his sword leaned against the unlit fireplace.

He was in his bedroom in Aquitaine. He came home.

Strange, ambiguous images flashed through his mind. He saw a forest full of evil souls and trees walking like humans. He saw a cousin of the elves, with a pair of slanted golden eyes and pointed ears. He couldn't help but shudder, remembering an abnormal winter that covered the earth with snow.

His dream quickly disappeared, dissipating like the mist on the lake under the rising sun. He knew there was an important thing he had to do, an important thing he had to remember, but he could n’t remember what it was.

He sighed, stood up, and walked towards the washbasin. The familiar voice from the castle reached his ears. He could hear the sound of farmers working in the field and the collision of pots and pans in the kitchen downstairs. He heard the collision of weapons and a sergeant roaring to order his soldiers to train. He also heard the rhythmic jingle of the blacksmith's hammer hitting the anvil. He heard the dog barking and was not sure where it was. He heard a laundry lady doing chores while doing chores.

Charlie poured a pot of water into the basin and poured cold water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror. His face was smooth and young.

The door was knocked open, and he turned around and saw his brother staggering into the room. He fell to Charlie's bed, moaning exaggeratedly.

"I don't drink anymore," his brother said. "What a bad night!"

Charlie grinned.

"My head seems to explode," his brother said. "Let it stop!"

"I had one of the weirdest dreams." Charlie said, turning to face the basin and staring at the mirror. His reflection looks like a stranger ...

"Oh?" His brother said. "Do you dream that you can beat me in a competition? Because that would be strange."

"No," Charlie said. "I embarked on a journey of exploration. My clothes were torn and covered with dust, my armor was worn and worn out. I had a beard and my hair was long and white. I was tired. tired."

His brother snorted.

"Your fantasy is boring, my brother," he said. "Now it's my turn, on the other hand ..."

"After years of exploration, I finally returned home, but Aquitaine is in ruins." Charlie continued. "Olivia is dead. You killed her, my brother. It was an accident, but I was very angry and sad. The distance between us was getting further and further, and then I left. I haven't seen it in years it's your turn."

"Enough, Charlie," his brother said as he sat up. "As you can see, Aquitaine is intact as before. I am here and Olivia is doing very well. After all, the wedding will be held next week."

"Wedding?" Charlie asked.

His brother smiled.

"Your wedding, yes, you fool," he said. "Don't tell me you forgot."

"No, of course not," Charlie said.

"Forget your dream. All this is true." His brother pointed to the room. "This is what you need."

"I ... I think I went in that nightmare ..." Charlie said. "Yes, I remember now."

"You are talking nonsense, man! This is just a dream, nothing more. Forget it!"

Charlie didn't understand why his brother was so angry, but he didn't think much. He shuddered, pulling his thoughts back to the past, trying to grasp those elusive memories. Everything is so real.

"Fernando-Habbs," he whispered. "King of Margarita. He waged a war. He called a united army and prepared to attack Bill Bally. A war is coming. I want to fight, but something calls me to leave I think it was an illusion. It took me far away to Felwood's haunted forest ... "

"Enough!" Charlie's brother snapped. "I don't want to listen, brother."

"You were not there, brother." Charlie said frowning. "You are in another place, but you are not yourself. You are ... you were ..."

"What happened to me, brother?" His brother asked, his voice full of cold hostility.

"Dead," Charlie said simply.

"Yes, dead." His brother said. "You killed me, remember?"

He suddenly stood tightly behind Charlie, although he didn't do anything in the mirror. The hair on Charlie's neck stood up. This was not his brother at all, Charlie realized.

"You abandoned me, brother," his brother said. "You abandoned me to alleviate your own sins. You forced me into Natal's arms. It was your fault. Then you killed me. Now is your death."

Charlie held a sword in his hand, and he turned to see what was disguised as his brother's attack.

He saw a terrible, roaring face pounced on him, as if carved from wood, and the smell of rotting leaves filled his nose. The blade-like sharp claws slammed into his face, but he blocked them with the shining white light of the Galamont sword ~ ​​www.wuxiaspot.com ~ He felt the blade penetrate deeply into the wood In the flesh, the guy screamed. Paws swept across his face. But he was hit by the force behind him and hit the ground heavily. For a moment, he felt his hands covered in snow. Blood rolled down his cheeks, but he struggled to stand up and used his sword to protect himself.

His attackers disappeared, and a cold wind blew through the ruins of Aquitaine's castle.

"For the lady's sake, what's wrong?" He whispered, and immediately turned around.

He was still standing in his old bedroom, but its walls had collapsed. The sky above was dark.

The sound of movement behind him turned him around. A figure came out of the shadow, and Charlie opened his eyes in horror.

"No," he said.

The figure glide in the moonlight, looking up at him, with pleading and sad eyes.

That was Olivia, the young lady of nobility that he devoted to her when he was young. He had already dedicated his heart to her, but she betrayed him. She was pale, wrapped in a fluttering shroud, and the shroud rolled around her. She reached out to him and silently begged for forgiveness.

"You are dead." Charlie finished and took a few steps back.

She nodded sadly, and blood began to run down the side of her head, spewing out of the wound in her temple, where her skull broke. He remembered the terrible sound she made when she hit the cold marble stair. Blood began to wet her fluttering robe, making it stick to her. Tears ran down her face.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, taking a few steps back, before stopping when he was pressed against the blackened wall.