The King

This is my first pretty good blog (at least, I think so). I wrote a little more than a year and a half ago.

In the land of Mar, the great and noble King Thrii reigned over us in peace with justice and equity. The land was prosperous, with healthy soil which produced the finest of crops, and our beautiful, lush, green fields fed and nurtured the best livestock in the known world. Happiness and joy lived in the hearts of all people in the land.
Alas, our peace was ended when the evil King Hroth of Varn invaded our borders with innumerable hordes of dark warriors and began to kill and burn all in their path as they marched across Mar, leaving death and destruction behind them. Our beautiful land quickly changed from a lush country to a desolate wasteland. As the plague of Hroth's havoc spread everywhere.
King Thrii sent army after army in attempt to stop Hroth. But all were overcome by the immensely powerful foe. All hope faded from the land and no resistance could defy the enemy. But King Thrii, refusing to surrender to this vile evil which invaded us, gathered all the men left in the land to assemble under his banner in one last attempt to vanquish the enemy and drive them out of our lands. Eagerly we all answered to his call in the defense of our homeland, as his bravery and confidence was enough for us to trust him to lead us through any crisis.
The day of the great battle arrived when the sun rose above the eastern hills on the other side of which our enemies were awaiting us. The day was clear, and a small breeze winded by every soldier, lulling us as we stood in our formations we had assembled out of a few thousand men, which would be the same in comparison of a handful of sand, to a large beach as we were to our foe. When the hour of battle pressed on us, King Thrii rode his steed before all of us on the front line and met our gaze. There was nothing said in words, but we felt his great enthusiasm, his burning courage, and his Kingly dignity. And in his stare, we could tell he was wishing God to be with us in this conflict, and he bid us farewell, for none of us would survive. He turned around and faced the hills masking the enemy.
We all stood still, waiting, with the roots of fear beneath our feet, steadily growing, and as the ropes of doubt and dismay knotted themselves within our bowels. All of us were restless, as our minds began to race through the memories of the lives we've lived; unearthing all embedded deeds we had done, both good and ill. Then slowly, dark thoughts of our evil enemies loomed over us, threatening to engulf our souls, sending their vilest, deadliest, most fearful hail storms, winds, and floods at us, desiring only our sorrow, misery and destruction.
Yet, even as the vast armies of Varn were rallied behind the hills, and though we could not see them, we could feel the icy evil of their presence, a small flame of eagerness, courage and hope remained lit within us all, and for a small moment, which felt to us as if it was lasting for eternity, we took comfort in the sunlight and let the wind sooth us. And nearly in unison, a final deep breath was taken, and as our great King began his trek to climb the hill, we all slowly and solemnly followed.
As we drew nearer to the top of the hill, all of our hearts began to beat faster and faster, until almost it seemed that they would simply wretch themselves from their places. Closer and closer, our ears began to ring, and our anxiety was nearly great enough to cause us to vomit out our innards.
We reached the top of the hill and halted. There were none who could not help but be amazed at the overwhelming enormity of the hordes of Hroth, as they seemed as numerous as the sands of the sea. Gradually, all of our eyes fell upon King Thrii, who remained still; comprehending his enemy. Then, quick as lightning he drew his sword and held it high in the air. He turned around one final time. We then met his fiery glance, and in his eyes we could see all things; that we must fight for all that we hold dear, that all depends on us, that we cannot fail, that we must not fail. And he turned towards our great foe and gave a great cry: "TO VICTORY! AND TO GLORY!" and began the charge towards the enemy.
The small flame of courage was a roaring fire now. We followed our brave leader and gave the same cry as he did, and rushed with all of our strength and will, and defied our enemies. Though we now knew victory would cost our lives, we pressed forward behind our glorious King.