Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #18 September 2015 | Page 43

Quest for Knowledge (Volume
1 of the FirstWorld Saga) The
Return of the King
While one Hero has stepped through the
Time Portal at Melasurej to go back in
time, another Hero unexpectedly pops up in
Tamarlan from the past.
The Return of the King
Manfred approached the guest room with
Regent Gamyon. Three guards at the door sprang to
attention. “I warn you Manfred, I cannot fathom him.
He says he is Ubadah, the King of Tamarlan. He bears
the secret mark of the King, knowledge of which has
been passed down from father to son by the Regents
of Tamarlan for four-hundred generations so that
we might recognise the King on his return. I never
thought to see it on my watch.”
“These are strange times, indeed, my lord.
The disappearance of the dwarves has me greatly
concerned. There is news of a great army approaching
from the south west from the Unknown Lands. It may
be Gadiel reformed. There is a rumour that Dammar
did not pass to stone, but is also out there somewhere
creating mayhem, perhaps in league with the Dark
God. And now this. These are indeed strange times,
and we must do our best with them, though we might
wish they had befallen someone else.” Manfred chose
not to mention the return of the Everlasting Hero and
his quest for the Sword, although he guessed that
Gamyon had already been fully briefed by his son.
“Are you certain it is the correct mark?” Manfred
asked.
on it.”

“There can be no doubt. I would stake my life

“That is as well, as you may have to,” said
Manfred gravely.

“It is good chance that you are here at this
time.” Gamyon spoke to Manfred and then addressed
the guards. “Knock and announce us.”
“I wonder whether it is just chance, or whether
some greater purpose is at work?” Manfred’s thoughts
were cut short as the door opened.
They were led into a bright room, furnished
with the finest pieces that Tamarlan’s artisans could
produce. The walls were adorned with examples of
Tamarlan’s greatest watercolour artists. A young man
was sitting, taking tea, on a sumptuous red settee.
The cushions and the armrests were adorned in the
best gold braid. The table, which held a silver tray of
tea-making utensils, was made of the finest marble
with solid gold legs. Manfred was impressed. Before
the guard could speak the young man rose. He was
in his early twenties, tall – well over six feet – and
slim yet with well-defined, muscular arms and legs.
His hair was jet black and cut short as if it had been
recently shaved off and had just begun regrowing. He
was clean-shaven, but a five o’clock shadow betrayed
his quick-growing beard. His face was rugged and
handsome. A long scar running from his left ear to the
side of his mouth did nothing to disfigure him bu а)