Chapter 5: History of Legends

Part 1: Soulcatcher

The wind blew the sand on the man's rough and tattered face. He stood nine feet tall. His armor was made of bronze. His face was red with anger. His shield-bearer slowly walked up to him and offered the shield. "OUT OF MY WAY, FOOL!" The warrior shouted as he pushed the man who fell on the ground with the loud clacking of the disarrayed armor. The boy at the head of the other army looked on, he had long brown hair, wide brown eyes and his skin was slightly dark. The warrior started running. The boy frowned. His brother called out to him: "David. Stay back here we'll protect you." The boy ignored his brother's plea and started running towards the charging Goliath. The wind blew fiercely and the boy seemed to be flying rather than running. Goliath put a hand on his sheath and said something in a strange tongue. David grabbed his sling-shot and loaded it with a small stone, barely half the size of his palm and shot it towards Goliath. The stone flew like a bullet and hit Goliath in the middle of his forehead, so hard that it killed him instantly. Goliath fell square on his face.

Both armies looked on in sheer bewilderment. David walked up to Goliath and stood on top of his carcass. He wrapped his hand around the handle on Goliath's sword and said: "In the name of God." As he pulled the sword out of its resting place, it shimmered and shone. David raised it high in the air and prepared to chop Goliath's head off.

There was a flash. David was taken to another time. A time lost in the annals stuck in the void between history and legend.


A few thousand years earlier.

The thick boots looked like they've gone through hell. His eyes were weary; it looked like he hadn't slept for months. Vigilance was his new friend.

Next to him, a large leopard prowled faithfully, the fierce creature was hungry for some action, and in a way, there seemed to be a communications channel between the two, and the man silently told its pet to wait patiently. "You will feed, very soon..."

The man stopped and looked up towards the palace walls that towered the gates to the city. The man was black-skinned, so black his skin glimmered with the sun's glare. He had short fuzzy black hair and his muscles were toned yet fearsome.

"I have come to claim you as my own!!" The man shouted with a deep - penetrating voice.

His sentence echoed the walls of the city and the palace.

The king of the city turned around to look outside the window; he motioned for his advisor to come close. "Who is that man?" The advisor shook his head: "I have never seen a man such as that sire.. Of an unsightly skin color and very strange clothing as well."

The king was annoyed: "Who are you? And what do you want from us?"

The mysterious man sighed. As if he was going to repeat a sentence he had said dozens of times before.

"I am known throughout the world by many names. Some call me The Hunter of Souls. Some call me The Leopard Tamer, some call me The Tyrant of the Earth; for I, am Nimrod, the King of Shinar."

The king's eyes widened: "The King of Shinar? Nimrod? Is this man mad?". The advisor snickered: "Obviously, sire, this man is either drunk or mad. For the King of Shinar is a great and terrible King who is mighty, handsome and white for the eyes to behold. He rules cities upon cities on our great Earth and is adorned by Gold and Silver and jewels that we've never even heard of. As we speak, the King and his barbarian armies are storming our other cities, but we are prepared for his terrible onslaught. But as for this absurd and filthy... ANIMAL, he is merely a charlatan."

The king looked at his advisor: "Should we kill him or should we just let him be?"

The advisor rubbed his long beard; the dark eyes were deep in thought.

"How about we play along with his game and put a bit of a show for our people, it will help, because when the people see what we'll do to this man, they will fear us more."

The king nodded. "A wise decision."

He stood up. "Alright, Nimrod, the kingdom is yours. However, where is your army? We've heard of your armies of barbarians who scoured the Earth like locusts. But we do not see them."

The man who called himself Nimrod started walking towards the palace gates: "They couldn't keep up."


Nimrod stood in the middle of the empty and plain palace court. The wind blew and the green grass rustled with the cold air. The court was quiet. Too quiet. Nimrod looked at his pet and it growled.

He pet it. "Sit back my faithful friend, sit back. I will take care of this one." he said telepathically.

Nimrod looked up towards the balconies and saw people gawking at him. The citizens were obviously here to be entertained. Nimrod frowned. "Want entertainment? You'll get entertainment."

Four gates around the court opened up and out of each gate a great elephant came out with a guard on top wielding a spear.

The king, standing on one of the balconies, starting laughing. "While our cities in our beloved Kingdom of Bactra are reportedly being pillaged by the great and terrible Nimrod. This man comes here single-handedly, a wanderer and a lost one... And claims to be Nimrod! WELL if he is Nimrod, let us see the great legendary strengths famed by ages of old which only he possesses!" The elephants roared and the people cheered in excitement. Nimrod grabbed the handle dangling on his belt and the unsheathing sound silenced everyone and everything. He crouched, ready for battle. One edge of the sword glowed furiously as if waiting to show off its splendors.

The king frowned and turned to his advisor: "What is that??" he pointed at the sword.

The advisor looked at the sword. "A spade of some sort, sire. The likeness of which I've never seen or heard of before. Moreover, the glowing light coming from it is uncanny."

The King stood up and shouted: "Kill him!"

The elephants roared again as their steers ordered them forth. Nimrod ran towards one of them then leapt into the air; he spiraled and spun, and with the sword cut off the head of the steer. The headless body fell to the ground and the leopard growled terribly as it started to rip the flesh with its teeth; turning the carcass into a conflagration of blood, gore and crushed bones.

Nimrod had landed on the ground swiftly, with one hand to the ground and the other brandishing the sword. His eyes had optimum confidence in them; this man did not know what fear meant.

The people gasped. What just happened was beyond anything they had ever seen or imagined!

The other three elephants stood shoulder to shoulder and in one charge started to stomp towards Nimrod.

He raised the sword in the sky and it glowed, he shut his eye for one second then flung the sword towards the elephants, as it flew, there was a blood-curdling wail that penetrated the hearts of every single person that was present. The sword missed the steer that sat at the center of the legion and instead struck the wall.

The king, who was following the action with every sense in his body, started smiling. "Ha! He missed! Now without his weapon he'll be crushed!"

The elephants stomped, slowed then stopped. The elephants were at loss; usually the steer would be yanking the thick girdle to make them charge forwards. But the steers weren't doing anything. It's as if, they fell asleep...

The people mumbled.

They looked at the three steers on top of their elephants. The three faces were expressionless and their eyes looked towards oblivion. Their jaws were open wide. Nobody knew, that the sword had claimed the souls of the steers.

Nimrod raised his hand and called out: "Sar'anbar!"

The sword shot through the air in time for Nimrod to expertly grab its handle. The three inanimate steers lost balance and fell to the floor lifeless as they were. Everyone gasped, including the King.

The ground started shaking. Lightly at first then the intensity increased more and more. Nobody doubted it: It was an earthquake. Nimrod smiled as he put his sword back to its sheath: "Like I said... I have come to claim you as my own."

The people scrambled to the Western walls and stared in bewilderment at the approaching army. The cavalry has arrived. As if Nimrod even needed one.

Oannes opened a flask of water and quietly sipped it, he motioned for a platoon to storm the city gates and obediently, the sortie of two hundred barbarians charged.

A warrior next to him approached. A scarf protected his face from the cold wind. A small dove sat affectionately on his shoulder.

Oannes offered his flask to the warrior and the latter gladly accepted. Suddenly, the dove on his shoulder flew away and went towards a cleft on a nearby mountain. The cleft overlooked the city walls and its palace... But faintly, you could see a single tower overlooking it. "Must be a watchman's tower." The warrior thought. The dove flew towards it, encircled it a few times then hurriedly flew back and perched on the warrior's shoulder. Oannes looked at the warrior and smiled: "I never got to thank you for choosing your side next to..."

The warrior suddenly stood up straight and looked at the citadel, squinting his eyes as if straining to see something. Oannes frowned: "What's the matter?" Oannes looked at the citadel then looked back at his mate. "Do you think...?" The warrior nodded. Oannes called out towards a platoon of mountain soldiers.

The commander of the soldiers knelt next to Oannes: "Yes, oh great Vizier?" Oannes: "Lord Nimrod may have overlooked something. I want your expert men to scale that cleft and storm that little tower." Oannes pointed at the hard-to-see tower and the commander looked. The commander nodded. Oannes patted the scarved warrior's shoulder: "You are now under the direct command of the person that I trust with my own life." The commander looked at the scarved man doubtfully and looked back at Oannes. "I've given you my order, what are you waiting for?"


Inside the palace, the battle raged. People were slaughtered weather they were men, women, old people or little children. Barbarians didn't know the difference.

Nimrod broke open the royal chambers with a kick and stepped inside.

Not expecting it at all, Nimrod's eyes widened as the king leapt in the air and crashed into him. The sword flew to a corner.

A big scuffle ensued. Nimrod punched the King with only half his might but the latter fell helplessly in sheer pain. Nimrod walked towards his sword, picked it up then pinned the King down and held him tightly. The King laughed: "Go on! Kill me! Ha!" Nimrod raised the sword high in the air.

There was a flash.

David could see through Nimrod's eyes.

David didn't know what was going on but as he held the sword high up in the air on top of Goliath, he frowned and looked down. "This is not the King..." He said. Yet it wasn't him that spoke. It was Nimrod. A long time ago.

Nimrod thought: "He can't be the king. A king doesn't give up his life that easy; kings live for life because they have no riches beyond the grave."
Nimrod: "Where's the king?" The man snickered: "But I am the King." Nimrod relentlessly cut off the man's hand and he immediately screamed in agony. "Where's the King?" Tears ran down the man's eyes. "I was sworn to protect his secret. Kill me, Nimrod, my duties on this Earth have passed I gladly accept your terrible blade's judgment."

Nimrod frowned. "So be it." And he swung the sword in the air and it came down silently.

Goliath's head rolled.

David stood up straight and looked on. In front of him was the army of the Israelities, behind him was the army of the Philistines. There was only one odd thing though. Every single person, and by that it meant every one the 75,000 soldiers from both sides, was frozen.

A slight panic filled him as he turned around and noticed that, the trees were frozen as well; even the wind with the debris that it carried was frozen too!

David didn't know what to think.

"The man you've just seen was a man foretold by the heavens since the beginning of Time. He was Nimrod." A man's voice echoed.

David turned hesitantly towards the voice and saw an angel sitting on a rock. He held a stone and gently threw it upwards. The stone stopped in the middle of the air as it called towards gravity to manifest itself onto it but found no answer.

The angel started walking towards David. "He was the first ascended one to wield that token."

David shook his head. "Huh?"

The angel continued: "That tyrant king was Nimrod. He ruled for about 600 years in the land of Shinar. But how he came about to have this power and immortality, is through that." He pointed at the sword.

David looked at it and wondered if he was even supposed to touch it, he felt an immense flow of evil within it.

"What you are wielding now is The King of Spades token. The first sword in history. Cain, the son of Adam forged it with the help of the demon Vulcan and sealed it with an ancient spell engraved with the letters of the angels."

David shut his eyes and the ancient tale contined.