I watched my people fall. The last tower crumbled after three relentless weeks of siege. With its fall, the eastern region was finally conquered. Fon, my homeland, was the last to resist. Now, it too had fallen.
It all happened in a matter of months, at the hands of the Ozaa people and, above all, their new leader: Ark.
Ark rose during a time of deep recession and famine, after the common decision of the Ozaa people. Years earlier, a devastating fire had destroyed their textile factories--their sole economic lifeline. Poverty, hunger, and desperation gripped them but received no help from the rest of the continent. Every nation had felt the crisis, but none suffered like the Ozaa.
When hope was almost gone, a man stepped forward, immediately recognized by most--Ark. A child prodigy from a time of abundance and richness, born with rumored unique powers but soon forgotten due to a lack of necessity. Without a vote, yet with unanimous consent, he was made ruler.
Stories of his wonders spread through the streets like wildfire. Ark did not need much time to prove to the Ozaa that they made the right decision: crops returned, coins clinked again in once-empty purses, and the people of Ozaa felt strength where there had only been weariness. But for Ark, salvation wasn't enough. Revenge festered in him and his people--a desire to punish those who had watched Ozaa starve.
He raised a small army. So small, in fact, that the neighboring countries didn't even flinch. They thought Ozaa still broken, its people still ragged, well aware of their difficulties. Unexpectedly, Ark's forces stormed the first eastern country in days. The land was rich in soil and space--perfect for a growing empire. From there, the Ozaa marched on, conquering two more nations without resistance or effort.
Whispers began to arise. Disturbing images of dark magic, of ancient prophecies fulfilled written millennia beforehand, of a king whose strength grew with each victory. There were stranger rumors, too--about the women Ark hand-picked from each conquered land. Always carefully chosen. Always brought to his palace. Although such practices weren't uncommon among rulers.
No one really knew how Ark gained such overwhelming power in so little time. Fear spread throughout the continent. Even allied nations with mighty armies fell beneath his forces. Those who survived spoke of Ozaa soldiers that seemed to grow stronger with every battle, as if they were feeding on war itself.
In Fon, we resisted longer than most. My people put up strenuous resistance against Ark's army. After weeks of siege however, my people weee increasingly weak and tired from the efforts of the war, while the Ozaa thrived. As the days passed, my army dwindled in numbers while Ark's army seemed to grow not only in number, but also in size, as well as in weapons and magical power. And then, the last tower fell.
Those who survived were given a choice: swear loyalty to the Ozaa, or be imprisoned. As leader of Fon, I refused--and I was taken in chains to the heart of Ark's empire.
