The Legend of Eredom

The Legend of Eredom

By Julianna ziezio   
Born 1998, F, from London, United Kingdom

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom called Eredom that lay far beyond the forests and hills, hidden in the mountains. It’s likeness resembled no other kingdom, as it was flat with only four triangular towers at the four points of the compass. The towers were grey with white roofs that were so similar to the image of mountains that it was hard to distinguish a difference between them. The rooms were arranged next to each other in a row on both sides of the court. However, the room occupied by the royalty stood about two steps higher, at the very end of the castle court, so that as royal highness went out of the room, every other person stood at both sides in a humble manner, and bowed so low that their noses touched the floor. Built it was on the highest peak of a mountain called Eteral, for from it, one could see the whole world. The home of mortals, the Ederas.





The Ederas were blessed with 700 years of life, but as they ceased to live they marched to their place of rest to the land beyond the horizon. There they awaited their last call and vanished from the face of the world.

Once grand, a castle full of laughter and joy; now lay forgotten by all. After the great battle that took place decades ago, now only mentioned by legends. The courage and bravery of the great king Eron, who had seen as many battles as he was old himself. It began with a turmoil in the village that lay North of the castle walls. It was a small village, and a family usually consisted of two parents and two children. It was very rare for someone to have five children. Actually, there was only one existing in the village, and that was the family of Abatos, the happiest and merriest people of all. They were very poor, but they were rich at heart. When a beggar asked them for alms, they would give it to him, even if it meant a small supper ahead. Many people were astonished and often asked them why do they do it, they don’t have enough for food, and they give it away? They said that they cannot live at peace and merrily eat their food, when they know that out there is someone on the verge of dying. When people heard that, they just nodded with their heads and went away with a new thought on their mind.

Peaceful and without war, the years passed and seasons changed. The seas began to rumble and toss out stones, on a stormy day, and harsh blows of the wind carried helpless leaves on their flowing wings.
Great peril arose in the East. There were rumours of a great magician, Aman, who appears after dusk or at dawn, taking on different forms and tearing the most helpless of creatures to their eternal doom. Don’t take me wrong, but what I meant by taking on different forms, I still meant that of a mortal. Sometimes of a noble and courteous gentleman, and sometimes of a doctor or a magistrate at court. He appeared the most trusted of men, however, only during daylight. As for the night, he took the form of a deadly creature, most ugly and revolting of all. A beast bearing the body of a scorpion and a tail of a dragon. The head was of a spider surrounded by a red fan-like crown that opened during attack.



You thought that’s the end? Oh, no. The beast could change it’s size according to it’s like. Sometimes that of a mouse – so to sneak into someone’s house. Sometimes that of a giant – to crush and demolish the peace surrounding the land.

The great king Eron, hearing these tales that tremendously troubled his people, decided to vanquish the beast once and for all. He went with hope that if he won peace would rule the land. His queen’s tender kisses and rolling tears sent him off on the dangerous quest. He knew that he might never see them again. The lights from the castle glimmering from afar, the sweet essence of home, guiding him in gloomy hours. A night of thunderstorms and thickening mists, he rode on his faithful horse, Erin, he rode through perilous realms, dark forests, to the beast’s den.

The magician was overjoyed when he saw the king in the distance; riding to conquer him, and he laughed in the face of the danger. He knew, that if the king fell the kingdom would be left unguarded. So, he stepped down his sinister tower and as it was sunset, he began to deform himself into a deadly beast.

As the king reached the beast’s den, he drew his sword that shone like a thousand stars, able to split and shatter everything that dared to step on it’s way. The horse’s mane flowed most delicately and gently embedded in the softness of the wind.

He crawled out towards the king very slowly, as if he had all the time in the world; with all his almightiness and terror.

Fear grasped the king’s throat, but now there was no time and so he galloped towards the beast. The sword cut through the burning skin of the beast. His voice engulfed by the roar of the beast. It was the fiercest and bravest of battles ever fought. A long struggle of life and death, met it’s end. The king had fallen, and was grieved by his people for many days, and banners of blackness were lifted up on the castle walls.




But hope, as lost as it seemed, wasn’t lost in the slightest bit. For the sword, found by some travelers, was handed to hand and eventually drifted to the hidden castle Eredom, and there it was carefully looked after, ensuring that no one of no royal hand could touch the sacred sword. For it was believed that this was the only weapon able to conquer the beast.

It was not known till much later that the magician had a secret weapon. Only true compassion could conquer it.

The End