Legend Borne

Contents1

Prologue 2

Part I: The Trials of Youth 3

Part II: The Discovery of Justice 4

Part III: Lies and Truth Revealed 5

Part IV: Uncovering Destiny 6

Glossary 7

PROLOGUE8

Six hundred years ago, a war, a terrible war to end all wars, rocked the world of Taramanth to its core. The Realms: the Humans, Wizards, Dragons, and Elves, lived in peace, with shaky treaties holding them in agreement. But evil humans had no wish for these alliances and rebelled against the Kings of the Humans and released Batrinous from his seal. He unleashed his Bane magic and changed many of each population of the Realms into one of the new races.9

The Human races were the Dragoons and Samurai and the largely forgotten race, the White Knights, a race of knights with holy magic powers. The dragons cursed the Dragoons because they were able to transform into dragons and also use Dragon skills with their weapons. They were the most hated of the new races because of their power, for one Dragoon could destroy an entire town. The dragons spawned forth great and terrible sea creatures that were the bane of all who cross the waters, a race of dragons that were so mutated and horrid that the dragons themselves banded together to purge them of the planet, and a new breed of purely air dragons. The wizards were almost completely corrupted by the power of the Dark Magic and joined their souls with it, thus ending their wise and good order, save the few that resisted. Those that were defiled became Dark Mages. The elves were too magically powerful to be changed against their will, but some craved more power and left the other elves to join Batrinous. These were the Dark Elves.10

The human kings were so horrified at the terror the dark ones had unleashed, declared war on all of the new human races and cut all alliances with the other Realms. Armies of knights marched across plains fighting with the new races in order to rid themselves of the new races. The Samurai were able to hide within the forests of Terra, but the Dragoons were all former knights, as the magic had affected them differently. They still had their honor, so did not fight, and almost the entire population of Dragoons was eradicated. Those that survived hid themselves as serfs to the kings and lived in squalor. But gradually, three hundred years after the war, several Dragoons of incredible power joined forces and made a fortress within the Mountains of Tarnianas, next to Mount Radmars. They raised many families of Dragoons within the walls and dispersed them across the land. Sadly, the Dragons discovered the fortress and came upon it like a storm upon the sea, with roaring and destruction. Every Dragoon in the fortress was destroyed, leaving only those who were banished for their misuse of power and those dispersed to serf families to be raised until they could be reclaimed. They were innocent of any blame, but were feared that if their true nature was discovered, they would be killed for their heritage.11

The Samurai were the plague of the human kings and were hunted at high bounty, but rarely was that bounty collected. They are terrible assassins and fighters, killing in many different ways and without mercy. The one good trait about them was their fanatical sense of honor, following their codes to the letter. They thought about an alliance with the Dark Mages to vanquish the humans and rid them of their annoyance, but knew they could not trust them. The Samurai are preparing for war and nothing short of all out war will stop them. The world is at a fork in the road with many paths to follow, a deadly pinnacle is coming, heading towards dominance or destruction.12

PART I The Trials of Youth13

Darcion grew up in a very normal environment, raised as the serf son of a blacksmith to the local knight and his wife Adail, quickly growing to be a strong and brave lad that always stood up for his friends, even when there wasn’t much hope. The potential within him was very obvious to his father, who saw the intense look Darcion got on his face when he picked up a stick and started brandishing it like a sword. Phorin, the father, made two dull bladed swords and two razor-edged swords for him; Darcion was allowed to practice with his dull swords, and once he had shown proper respect for his blades, he was sometimes allowed to use his real swords. He trained constantly using a wooden figure he made himself. He would spend hours before the figure, slashing and attacking it and learning to properly handle the blades. Sometimes the local militia would see him training and 14

Late one night when Darcion was only 8, he was thrashing away at his figure when he heard a noise from inside. He quietly crept to the place where his father had shown him where he kept the real swords and drew one from its sheath, keeping the blade low to hide the glare. He silently opened the back door and entered his mothers cooking room. There was nothing out of place here, so he continued down the dirt path that was their hallway. As he neared his parent’s room, he heard a muffled scream and a rapid scuffling, then silence. He looked around the corner and a stooped figure, holding a limp body, let it drop and stood up. The shadowy figure held out his hands and let Darcion’s mother’s blood drip from his fingers in a slow almost automated way. The man, as Darcion could tell from his silhouette, let out a slight chuckle and stepped over the body towards the closet where his father kept all of his finished weapons.15

Darcion, on the verge of shock, almost fell to his knees, a single tear escaping his eye, briefly glimmering in the moonlight from the front door. It was still ajar from the murderer’s forced entrance into the boy’s home. He saw that there was not one, but two bodies lying still on the floor and he felt something snap inside. He felt almost as if he was no longer in control of his own body, but he didn’t care anymore, nothing mattered except him and the killer laughing after brutally taking the lives of two innocent people. Darcion walked into the room and pulled his sword off the ground. The thief, hearing the sudden noise, turned to face the young boy.16

“Oh really boy. You honestly think you can hurt me with that toy? I’ve seen you use it you know, seen your father watching you train so diligently. Well, he wont be watching anymore will he, hmm?” the thief’s voice was sadistic and scratchy.17

“This isn’t my ‘toy’ you scum. This is my real sword; my father’s other gift to me, forged to give me real experience with a weapon. Now fight me you cowardly assassin. My father never hurt anyone, never tried to make any problems. How could you take an innocent man’s life like that? You are the worst human I have ever met, but I don’t care anymore. I just care about you, me, and this sword in my hands,” and with that, Darcion lunged forward at the thief.18

The thief jumped aside, knocking the lamp he was using onto the floor, igniting the straw and wood walls. Darcion followed the bandit outside, putting what knowledge of swordsmanship he had into play. He pulled his sword into a defensive stance as the fire from the lamp consumed the only home he had ever known, its glow casting eerie shadows along the ground. Darcion could feel the heat on his back and cast his cloak away, revealing his well muscled body to the heat, drawing it in, feeling a strange sense of power emanating from the flames, seeming to intensify Darcion’s strength.19

The thief had begun to doubt how easy it would be to defeat the young boy. He drew his own sword from his sheath at his hip and pointed its tip right at Darcion. He rushed forward and drew back for a downward slash, but found Darcion’s sword right there, parrying the blow. The thief felt a thrill of horror as he looked into the boy’s eyes and saw silver eyes with slits for pupils looking back, mocking his fear and inability to defeat a mere boy. Again and again he struck, never finding an opening. He decided that it was time to end this duel now. Jumping back, he took up the stance of the only specialty technique he knew, the power slash. His energy collected from every pore of his body, flowing into his sword. This power had the strength to break weapons and continue on into the holder of the opposing sword. He dashed toward Darcion, who seemed to be strangely focused on his sword.20

Darcion drew back and to the intruder’s shock and horror, flames from the burning home, leapt to Darcion’s blade, wreathing it in fire and heating the blade to impossible temperatures. The power blade met the fire blade and a massive explosion of sound rocked the quiet village. The invading thief stepped back, staring his stumps where hands once were, blood flowing forth in torrents to the ground, the flames of Darcion’s parent’s demise flickering against the blackness of the thief’s life water. Darcion stepped forward and thrust his sword, piercing the marauder’s heart, pushing all the way out of his back and covering Darcion’s bare arm with the blood of his enemy’s soul. Drawing the blade to his chest, Darcion looked at the dark liquid covering the blade and let it drop, grinning with fanged teeth, his shadow almost appearing to have wings in the strange light from the fire.21

Darcion then stepped back and blinked, looking around as if for the first time on the night’s horrors, with wide desperate eyes flooding tears down his cheeks, and fell to the ground on his knees. The thief collapsed into the pool of his own blood that had collected around him. Darcion reached up to brush a lock of his long hair out of his face where it had stuck as a result of his crying. He looked around to see the village people collected around his former home and the gruesome scene before them. Their scared faces worried him, because the faces were scared of him. He tried to remember what had happened, and saw the body of the thief lying in the black pool. 22

A horn announced the arrival of the local knight’s men and the fire was swiftly put out. As Darcion looked down at the ground, he thought only of his parents, and fell asleep from pure exhaustion right there on the grass. The knight’s men asked the villagers what had happened and they explained that a call had gone up that a fire was burning a house. They had rushed to help and found young Darcion fighting that stranger all alone and how he had killed the man with a blade enveloped in flames. The knight’s men picked up Darcion and the body of the thief, dropping it off at the local monastery to be prepared for a quick burial, and continuing on to the castle. The men brought the boy before the Knight and he told them to put him in a spare bedchamber and then to report to him on the situation.23

When the leader of the group returned and gave the report, the knight, Sir Felix of Goth, to get some sleep and that he would decide what to do with the boy upon day’s light. Sir Felix sat in his room and racked his brain for any possibility of how a bow so young could control flame. He was no wizard for the testers had passed him by, but the only other way was quite impossible. He sent for the boy’s sword and examined it with his mage. There was no sign of any magic ability in the sword; neither had there been in any of the blacksmith’s work. Felix sighed gently in sadness. Phorin had been a loyal and strong worker. He had always done his best, never satisfied with good work. He would be sorely missed, but what to do with this boy who could control flame. The villagers had said that the flames had shifted and moved towards Darcion, though there was no wind to stir the grass. The power that had shattered the thief’s sword and ripped his hands from his body was incredible to say the least, having broken through a powerful sword spell to shatter the core of the sword’s connection to the user, the hand. His mage advised him that a boy of such power needed to be kept away from things that would provoke such a reaction again, and to do so adopt him as a son and a page.24

Felix dismissed the mage and pondered this idea. He had no sons for his wife, Armina, was barren because of magic, and he had longed for such a boy as this. Darcion was famous around the village for taking more than his share of beatings from older boys, taking the hits for those too weak to protect themselves. And yet he always seemed to walk away victorious, because the older boys would find no pleasure in beating one would did not give in to pain so easily and looked at them in pity while they hit him. Felix had long wondered how such a young boy could take such pain and never be angry or sad at such circumstances. He had seen Darcion often enough for he came with Phorin whenever there was a delivery of weapons and armor. He did his tasks readily with no complaints, just good solid work drive, for when he was finished, the guards would allow him to accompany them on their rounds along the battlements. He had a strong sense of justice, something Felix admired in one so young. As Felix fell asleep, he made his decision.25

“What! I am to be a page, m’lord? Really? Wow, I never dreamed of such a chance! Father will be… Oh yes. Was there anything left of my house or parents? Anything at all?” was Darcion’s response to the news of his adoption into the world of the castle the next morning.26

Sir Felix answered slowly,”Well, there is not much left of the house, everything has been gutted. We could find more than ashes as to your family’s remains. I’m very sorry; your father was a dear friend to me. I shall adopt you as my son and you shall become a page, yes. You will eventually become a squire and maybe one day, a knight. Now come, I must take you to the spreading of your parent’s ashes.”27

The spreading was a sad and depressing event, with many of the villagers there to pay their respects to their late friends. The very world seemed to morn his passing with a gray, empty sky, and no noise from the usually cheerful songbirds. Many eyes followed Darcion as he came forward and knelt at the altar where the containers of the ashes stood. He prayed to God for the safe passage of the souls of his parents. Then in secret he prayed softly to help him live up to all of the hopes and dreams of his father, that he would live with honor and uphold justice to the best of his ability. As he stood up several of his village friends came and embraced him, comforting his torn heart. He told them of his new life and they were very happy for him, slapping him on the back and congratulating him. Sir Felix then gave the go ahead to the monks and they opened the containers to a magewind. As the last remnants of his former life drifted away into the bleak sky, Darcion shed a single tear and brushed it away before any could notice.28

Morning of the next day found Darcion meeting the other pages, sons of the other knights, sent for training to become knights themselves. Two of the five were quite stupid and spoiled and were immediately prejudiced against Darcion for his low birthing, while the other three made themselves very friendly and approached him readily. Darcion was given few errands at first to see if he was trustworthy and worth the time to train. He proved his ability quickly, learning fast enough to catch up with the slowest of the five in days. The first real errand given to him was to take a horse and ride to the next castle to deliver a message. The horse was fast and he had reached the castle only two hours after setting out from Sir Felix’s castle. Felix was pleased with his speed and ability with horses and allowed him to spend more time at the stables than the other boys, which was fine with all for they did not like to clean the horse pens. The groomers were surprised with the gentleness Darcion displayed with the horses, keeping them calm even when they were in pain.29

The horses soon preferred Darcion’s touch to that of every other groomer, even while they were being shod. Darcion had surpassed the other pages long ago, to the awe of the other boys and to the great surprise of his teachers he had asked for more work. He absorbed knowledge like water to a thirsty man, never getting enough. He could soon read and was able to tell the boys the stories he read from Sir Felix’s reports, stories of dragons, Samurais and elves. By age nine he was full care giver of all of the knight’s horses and those of his captains. He was a strong and intelligent boy with just a slight bit of mischief hiding inside that silent exterior. That was the one thing that Felix worried about, for the boy never opened up to anyone; never let on what was going on inside his head. It was as if he were in his own little world that was locked away forever with no one allowed in or out.30

When Darcion was 10 he was sent on errand to a castle on a several day delivery and pickup. His overseer would follow behind viewing his choices. He was allowed to choose his own equipment and provisions, so he took a few days worth of salted meat, several changes of clothing, a medium length dagger with a hip sheath, a lantern candle, and several pieces of equipment for his horse including a pick for removing rocks from a hoof and foods and grooming tools for the horse. When he set out later that day he did not rush the horse, instead setting a good solid pace that would not tire the horse quickly and spent much of the ride looking over the animal, whose name was Armorand. The overseer was surprised that Darcion’s horse outlasted his own. Darcion decided that he would set down before nightfall and sent his horse to the water pool that they had stopped at and set out Armorand’s provisions before his own. 31

When Armorand’s thirst was quenched and he had eaten, Darcion got out the grooming kit and gave the horse a quick once over to check for ticks and fleas. There were no problems so Darcion got out some food and ate the meat then hung it between two trees to protect it from predators. It looked like it might rain so he got out his pack leather sack and cut into a tarp then stretched it over his place between some rocks with a stick and some rocks to hold it down. By the time he had reached the castle, both he and Armorand were happy and healthy, but the overseer became sick and was bedridden for several days, as was his horse. 32

Darcion was given an excellent reputation and much respect. His life went by with a surprised speed, with the rest of the year passing in what felt like minutes. He trained in secret, taking up his father’s blades and learning every way he could, mind absorbing all the techniques and movements he could. 33

He spent so much time training that Sir Felix began to wonder where he disappeared to everyday when he was no longer bound by chores. He followed Darcion on day and discovered the boy’s secret place where he trained with two 4-foot claymores, amazing for a page of his age and size. He swung with great strength, though his body appeared only well muscled, not extreme in any sense. Darcion’s aim and speed were amazing, his attacks capable of attacking several times in the same spot within a few seconds, reducing a 40 year old tree to a lumber pile in less than two minutes. Darcion then began a different type of training, starting with sitting down on a rock in the middle of the clearing. 34

As he sat, he focused on the strange magic energy he could feel in his blood, trying to control it. As he gathered the energy, he tried to manipulate it into a useable form, but was unable to make it do what he wanted. Sir Felix left quietly, not wanting to disturb the boy when he was obviously deeply involved with what he was doing. He returned to the keep and pondered this, then decided to give young Darcion an edge in combat by letting him see the reports and breakdowns of Samurai tactics. When the boy walked into his quarters, he found a pile of papers on his desk and he groaned lightly.35

“Homework? Argh…and right after my training too…” he slumped into his chair and picked up the first paper.36

As he read over the descriptions of the various techniques and abilities he felt his hands subconsciously attempting them, trying to copy the intricate movements. He looked over the sheet again and then picked up his swords and began to practice them with his claymores, changing the maneuvers to work for his weapons. To his amazement he found himself able to use the techniques with ease, with only several tries needed to master each one. He spent the rest of the day in his room, absorbing the information as fast as he could, trying to learn everything that the scouts and observers had gleaned from safe distances. He was amazed at the amount of subtly there was involved in so many of the movements, a simple arm twitch allowing for a whole new angle of attack during a jump attack, and the like. 37

Learning at an incredible pace, his mind a sponge for the techniques, each one adding even more potency to his swordsmanship. He poured his heart into his training each day, leaving early and not returning til late into the night. He was asleep before he even fell upon his bed, exhaustion taking him to the world of dreams and peaceful images. His body hardened quickly from the extreme amount of training, increasing his strength and structure three-fold over the course of a few weeks, allowing him to perform even more amazing acrobatics and abilities than ever before, bolstering his confidence from Sir Felix and the jealousy received from some of the other boys. 38

After Darcion performed several jobs with incredible time and efficiency, he was sent on a trip to deliver a new sword forged by the great smith Firmon, who lived in a forest near Felix’s castle. Firmon was famous for his sword’s immense power and how easily the blades could be manipulated through the air, almost as fluid as Samurai katanas. Darcion was given the package and told to be very careful with the blade, as Firmon’s work was prized and thieves would undoubtedly try and capture it from him. Instead of his usual equipment of a simple knife and supplies, Darcion took his twin claymores and a chain mail vest to wear over his specially designed tunic and less of the horse equipment than on his usual trips. He jumped up and shook hands with Sir Felix, his twin swords sheathed on his back. He set off at a gallop and was soon disappearing into the distance around the forest curve. As soon as he was out of sight, one of the servants turned to Sir Felix. 39

“Sir, why do you send such young boy on a potentially dangerous mission? Wouldn’t one of the older more experienced rides have been better?”40

“Young Darcion needs to be tested before we can truly judge him. He would not allow himself to die on such a task and we need to see if has learned from his working to the bone.”41

The attendant gave him a strange look then shrugged and walked away, Sir Felix remaining behind to watch the dust fade slowly from Darcion’s trail. Meanwhile Darcion had only gone several miles when he felt the strange tingle that meant he was being watched from afar. He did not move or change his pace; instead kept to the same trail and speed he had paced this horse too. When he settled for the night he put up the rain shelter for the horse and then put on his vest and laid atop the sword he was delivering to prevent the thieves that were clearly following him from simply walking off with it. He lay with his eyes closed for a half hour; his heart beat thudding in the silence of the night air. 42

Nothing stirred for a long time, then near the edge of the firelight a branch crunched gently as with a careful step and a light cursing then a shadowed figure stepped beyond the edge of the light into the small clearing. Darcion shifted slightly in his feinted sleep, now laying on his side and revealing the sought after sword to the figure in the light. At his move, the thief twitched and turned slowly towards Darcion to assure that he was still asleep, then he noticed the sword, and the eyes behind the black mask he wore grew wide with realization. He stepped forth to take the blade, arms extended far from the body and shaking slightly in his nervousness. 43

Darcion rolled again so his hands rested upon his own swords, then as the thief froze at the movement, he drew and slashed upwards with one sword, cutting through the man’s wrist. He grabbed his stump and bellowed, shattering the silence of the starlight. Darcion was on his feet in seconds and held both swords ready, his stance set to face anyone that came forth. Hearing movement behind him, Darcion shifted slightly and ducked his shoulder, sending a would-be killer stumbling onto his face over Darcion’s foot. The thief with one less appendage fell to the ground, clutching at his stump. 44

Darcion swung his swords and sheathed them, then stood at a ready stance, prepared to move in a moment. A shadow stepped into the circle of light and towered over his injured comrade. He drew a small sword and laid it across his injured mans chest, then slit a huge cut through the material, and through skin, opening the poor man like a common animal. Darcion cringed at this then became angry. His anger burned in his heart, his mind focused on defending his cargo with his life. The huge shadow moved forward again revealing a massive man, over seven feet high, with small cruel eyes set in a too small face with cheek bones that made the man look shrewish. This man was clearly the leader and he smirked down at Darcion with a predatory look set in his features.45

“That was a very nice move you pulled on my man here. I knew that Felix wouldn’t send some incompetent brat on a mission with a treasure like that, so I sent one of my more expendable people to see if I was right…and turns out I was. So boy…are you going to give me that sword, or will I have to take it from you?” the man spoke with a mocking voice full of cruel laughter.46

Darcion stayed silent and instead shifted his stance to one of greater ease and maneuverability. The leader laughed and stepped back, sending in more of his underlings to finish off this “boy”. Darcion smirked and waited, closing his eyes to listen to the sounds around him and hear the thieves that were sneaking around behind him. This appeared to be an opening for the three thieves waiting to pounce from his front, and they drew knives and short swords of varying lengths, lunging forward. Darcion didn’t even open his eyes, simply following the sounds of their feet on the dead leaves on the ground and shifting one sword to catch the first slash, then parry with the second, sending them all sprawling with a basic smack with the flat of his blade. The leader’s eyes widened with surprise and a grudging respect, but confidence still shone through his face. He held up a hand to call off the other thieves, then stepped to a spot directly in front of Darcion, clearly setting a fighting area. Darcion took one step back to give him more room to work with, setting his stance in staunch readiness for an attack. The leader drew a huge greatsword, at least 6 feet long and swung it lightly in his hands. 47

“By the Fallen One!” he sword loudly, “I have no more time to waste on such brats as you, boy! Now give me the sword or I shall take two souvenirs with me, that sword and your head, boy! Stand aside!” the lead thief raged verbally at Darcion, trying to intimidate him.48

“Indeed it seems that you have an issue with my method of protecting myself. Are you more used to having people simply cower and hide from you, then die in disgrace? I am not so low as to back away from you, when I am not even afraid of you limited skills as a warrior.” Darcion’s eyes narrowed slightly, reversing the effect that the thief had tried to use against him.49

The leader drew back for a sword slash and his face stretched into the most horrible grimace of a cruel smile Darcion had ever seen, only spurring his determination to not lose to such a beast as this. Darcion placed his hands on his sword hilts, preparing to use a draw technique that would increase the power and speed of his swing several fold, the hilt itself giving a sort of drag that allowed for the full draw to be hard to see with a normal eye. The leader had no idea of the purpose behind this maneuver and ran towards Darcion, crossing the small clearing in moments, pulling up on his greatsword, preparing to slash down with the full force of the enormous blade. Darcion crouched slightly, extended one leg and started to run as well, right at the thief, hands starting to exert pressure onto the hilts, now ready to perform the technique. He pulled with all the skill he could muster, using all his possible strength in drawing the twin blades to create and X slash through the air, one blade slightly behind the other so as not to hit each other on the move through the air. 50

As the swords were freed from the sheaths, the leader’s eyes widened once more, this time fear and disbelief filling them as the incredible speed of Darcion’s twin swords connected with his blade and shattered it, throwing shards of metal into his light armor and unprotected face. His hands immediately dropped the ruined hilt and went to his face, blood running down from several wounds, staining his huge hands red with his own life water. His underlings quickly ran and only one came and picked up the leader, moving as fast as possible to get away from such a terror as this boy. Darcion sheathed his blades after wiping them of what little blood had stained them and then went back to his bedroll. He slept peacefully, dreaming of senseless nothings, such as him with wings and flying in the air. He awoke early and quickly finished the ride to the castle, delivering the sword two days ahead of schedule. After he returned to Sir Felix, he told the story of his victory, leaving out the fact that he had used Samurai techniques, as he wasn’t sure how Sir Felix would react.51

Darcion was placed in control of the stables and he soon had the whole stable area looking and running with almost perfection. The horses still enjoyed his touch above the others and cooperated with every motion of his body and voice. He trained the horses to many new commands that he himself had thought up including jumping and learning what plants were not good to eat in an unfamiliar field. Sir Felix ordered that Darcion continue the swordsmanship training that Darcion had never given up. Darcion was trained by the best in the castle and he learned swiftly all that the teacher could give him. When he was given his first practice battle with another student, the teacher was astonished at the skill Darcion showed in his speed and agility, defeating the opponent within seconds, pinning him to the ground with a sword to his neck. The teacher told him to defend only next round and tossed him a shield. Darcion caught it and immediately threw it back, requesting instead another sword.52

“Another sword, why in the world would you want that, a shield offers much better protection,” was the teacher’s inquisitive reply as he tossed another sword to Darcion.53

“Watch and see for yourself. You will understand soon enough Sir,” was his cryptic reply.54

Darcion brought both swords up and compared them. They were the same length and both blades of his father’s making. He set a cross-bladed stance and awaited the beginning of the round. The teacher called the command and the other squire swiftly dodged left and right while running toward Darcion. He pulled his sword into a charge position and placed his shoulder behind his shield. Darcion did not move, but simply waited, a gust of wind rustling through the trees and making his by now mid-back length hair, tied in a tail behind to keep from drifting into his face, blew along the sides of his face, his lightning blue eyes focused directly on the edge of the squire’s blade. Then, like a flash of lightning, Darcion pulled back with both blades then swung them forward, connecting hard enough that the opponent let go of his hilt from the vibrations and he was able to swing his blades up, bringing the other student’s sword with them to drop behind him. The teacher’s jaw dropped and the student fell over himself to back away from this living lightning bolt.55

“The Fallen One’s wrath! How, huh how did you just do that, young Darcion? I never taught you that maneuver; so where could you have learned it? Tell me. I have never seen an enemy disarmed so swiftly or in such a clever way,” was the teacher’s stammered question.56

“I copied it from a demonstration I read off of father’s pile of reports on the Samurai tactics. I integrated it into my training routine and learned that it was quite effective. The key was to find the place that gave the most intense vibrations,” was his calm reply.57

“You what! Copied a Samurai tactic? That is quite impossible! The movements of those fiends are sometimes too swift and complicated that we cannot follow! Copied a Samurai move! Ha! I can’t believe that for a minute!” was the instructors mocking reply.58

Nonetheless, when he asked Sir Felix, he found that Darcion really had copied a two-sword Samurai defensive maneuver. He questioned Sir Felix about the way Darcion had simply read all of the material without consent. Felix explained that he was preparing to send Darcion to the Seven Blades Training Academy for squires. He was passing the information to Darcion because he was not only preparing for the future but also allowing him to see the movements of the enemy before hand so he would not be caught off guard. 59

But the way Darcion had flawlessly learned and practiced a Samurai movement caught him completely off guard. He began to wonder what else the young squire was capable of, if he could learn complex and difficult movements from simply words and pictures. His choice to send Darcion to Lancelot was received with mixed reactions. Some were jealous that one so new to being a squire would be sent off to the best training school in the land, others were sad that he would go for he had many close acquaintances, but no real friends. Most were quite happy for him because it was so obvious how much he deserved it. Darcion reacted with a calm demeanor, but Felix could tell how gratified he was, and that made him fill with pride. Sir Felix felt as if he really was the young man’s father and embraced him like he was.60

Darcion set off with a supply wagon the next day and he and the driver conversed lightly. He had not forgotten his roots and felt that he was simply blessed to be where he was. As the wagon tumbled along the forest trail, hitting the occasional rock, Darcion looked at the dense foliage bordering the road and thought of what wonders lay hidden within its depths. The dusty path led them across a river and Darcion stopped the horses to let them drink because he could tell they were thirsty. When they had drunk their fill the wagon continued and he took stock of his equipment. He had two broadswords, painted black to his request, a greatsword, his breastplate, also designed by him, and a pair of claws he had built into gauntlets, designed after Samurai weaponry for their effectiveness in close quarters combat. The driver fell asleep and Darcion took the reigns, leading the horses by the feel of the road. The trail soon led them to the academy and they were swiftly admitted. The headmaster of the school came out to meet them, mainly the wonder student that everyone had heard about, the Felix boy.61

“Welcome, young Darcion, to the Seven Blades Training Academy. We have heard a great deal about you from your father, Sir Felix and are pleased to have a student from that land, as there have not been candidates there for several years. You have a great deal of hope riding on you from your fellows back home, hmm? Well come so we can get you settled into your quarters,” and with that welcoming speech the headmaster led Darcion into the next few years of his life.62

Darcion adjusted faster than anticipated by his instructors and soon he was into the thick of things at the academy. He was given lessons in strategy in managing an army and how to repair his armor should the need arise. One of the more ignorant students asked why they were learning this when their servants already knew it.63

“Because you fool, on a battlefield there are no servants at your beck and call. If you should fall off your horse or take a severe hit from a weapon, you will need to fix it yourself, or unless you wish to die?” came Darcion’s contemptuous rebuke from his place in the back of the class, where he perpetually sat in the shadows.64

The class laughed and the student made a face at Darcion then settled into a different position. The teacher remarked that Darcion had been exactly right and proceeded with the lesson while the students paid closer attention when they heard the way Darcion had described the importance of it. After class Darcion went to his room and put on his specially designed armor and gauntlets. He did this everyday to get used to the weight and learn to adjust and bring his speed and dexterity up to the way it was without armor. The gauntlets had spring loaded dull claws built in above each knuckle that would release but not pull back in, for Darcion had only figured out a way to make them come out and not fall back in with a locking mechanism. These were for practice and testing the effectiveness. He was walking out to the grounds when the student he had insulted confronted him with three classmates. They commenced to walk towards him make motions of submit or pain, basically. Sighing, Darcion brought up his gauntlets and let the idiots see his gear. Ignoring his warning, they came within attacking range, jumped at him, and fell on open ground.65

He stood to the side, his cloak flowing with the wind, giving them that gaze of pity that so enraged the three boys. When it became obvious that they were not going to leave, Darcion hit the latch for the claws, and out they sprang and latched. The leader began to look slightly nervous at this development, but they rushed him again, to find themselves holding torn skin on faces and hands where the claws had slashed. Running seemed to be their strong suit and they did it away from Darcion, this time putting as much space between him and them as possible.66

Darcion walked to his training area in a shadowed grove of trees, where he practiced things that no one else knew he could do, like running along the sides of rocks and trees, jumping to tree branches from the ground, and balancing his weight so well that he could walk on some of the lighter branches. This was his place of solitude, his place of self. He could do whatever he pleased here, because no one followed him. He brought out his practice swords from his hip sheaths and began to train. He ran up the side of a rock then jumped off to slash downward with great power on a target. The trees were the hardest part of his training, learning to balance his weight so evenly, that he could walk on branches that should not hold him, even run. Then he would fall to the ground, learning to land properly, not to be hindered by falling incorrectly. His swords would become an interlocking blur, capable of deflecting any thrown or shot item, the twin blades would whistle slightly through the air, their motions hard to track. He set the swords down and locked his claws out, slicing the air with the swift hand motions. 67

Each attack had a follow-up, or a defensive move to counter with. He would never allow an opening. Placing the claws back in their slots, Darcion walked over to the tree that held two of his most prized possessions, two real Samurai katanas with dragon engravings. They were light, but very strong and their black finish reflected no light. He spent the most time with these, slashing at air and practicing combinations that could be easily used in seconds to decimate a weaker enemy. He carefully placed the katanas back into the hiding place and returned to the school.68

The next day, Darcion was given excellent news, his first mock duel of swords. He arrived at the ring early to get a feel for the ground, his twin blades hanging behind him. His opponent arrived right on time and swaggered onto the field, short blond hair swaying lightly in the breeze, confidence evident in his sapphire eyes and lightly tanned face. So, this was Raynor, the supposed best student in the school. He took up the sword and shield given to him, and laughed at Darcion’s choice of weaponry. While he had had time, Darcion had attached special spikes to his boots to give him better griping on rocks, and decided he would catch Raynor off guard. He jumped backwards to his side of the ring, and launched himself to a rock wall over twelve feet high, and simply sat hanging off the wall, then dropped back to the ring floor. Raynor dropped his shield in surprise and looked at the instructor for help who just shook his head with a smile. He thought that something new was about to happen here. The seating around the ring had filled with people, both students and instructors, to see Darcion’s first fight. The referee called the start and Darcion ran along the wall towards Raynor, surprising him and sending him into defensive stance, shield up and sword crossing. 69

When Darcion jumped down to the arena floor, Raynor thought he saw an opening to attack and rushed him warily, but Darcion was waiting for him and did the same move as his first fight as a squire, bringing his blades up and capturing Raynor’s to be thrown to the other side of the ring. The crowd was cheering and yelling as the fight still continued, with Raynor’s shield his new weapon, swinging it and defending with it at the same time. This had greatly surprised Darcion for he had never seen such adaptability among the students at the Academy. He grinned and let Raynor retrieve his sword, so as to be more interesting. The fight began anew, with both of the squires going sword to sword, neither letting up. To Darcion’s surprise, Raynor threw his shield right at Darcion and then ran to attack when Darcion dodged. He was about to hit when Darcion dodged behind him and smashed him across the shoulder blades, tapping several bones in the neck and knocking Raynor out.70

Raynor woke up to find Darcion leaning against the wall in the darkest corner of the room. He sat up and quickly found his gear.71

“Fallen stars and sacred swords! How about a rematch, there Darcion? Are you up to it?” was his first question, followed by, “or did you come to gloat?”72

“You interest me… Raynor, was it? You are the first student here who has shown close to my ingenuity in fighting. I know, I have watched every other squire here and I must say I am not impressed with most. But you, you are different. You were calculating every part of that fight, looking for any remote possibility of victory. You are a lot like me, and that makes me feel…I don’t know, like I’ve found something I’ve never had before, a friend.” this was not the reply Raynor expecting.73

Darcion then left the room and began walking away and Raynor stood there, stock still, for a moment to let that sink in. On the one hand, he had been found less skilled than someone, which seriously hurt his pride, but who was better than Darcion here? And Darcion had called him what? A friend? That was unheard of from Mr. Sits-Alone-and-disappears-for-hours-on-end. Then a grin crossed his face. He was ecstatic with glee actually leapt up and down a bit. He got a hold of himself and ran to catch up with Darcion. He then asked him questions about his childhood, but stopped when he saw a strange look cross Darcion’s face.74

“What’s wrong?” asked a curious Raynor.75

“I don’t know. I was trying to remember, but it was almost like a wall was in my mind when I tried to remember the night when my true parents were killed. I can’t remember what happened that night, never have. All I know is that I killed a man at the age of eight, with almost no training with a sword. His hands were blown off and I punctured his chest. Do you know anyone else who has ever done something like that?” he replied somewhat shakily.76

“Uh, no, I’ve never heard of that before. In fact, no one has. Otherwise we would have asked you about that long ago. How come no one knew about it?” was the only reply that came from Raynor as he tried to contemplate this new development.77

Darcion waved at Raynor that he wanted to be alone for a while and walked away holding his head. He reached his place of solitude and sat on a rock. His vision blurred and he passed out. Strange images of black and gray dragons and people drifted through his tortured mind as he stared through the dream world. Then, still in the dream, his feet came into contact with the ground and he could see that he was on a vast plain. Darcion looked at himself and found his armor and swords on him. He felt a huge thud and turned to find a medium size dragon, covered with strange and mysterious markings. Darcion realized that the dragon was after him and he drew his swords, flashing the light from the world’s strange sun into the dragon’s eyes.78

The dragon drew back in pain and breathed fire where Darcion had been seconds ago, missing completely. Darcion was in fact on the dragon’s scales, running up its back. When he reached the wings he cut the tender fibers, preventing it from flight. He then used his swords to climb without being thrown from the thrashing dragon. Upon reaching the head, Darcion used his claws to slash the dragon’s right eye, thus blinding it. He then shoved his sword where the claws had been, killing the beast. As he jumped down, the drake opened its mouth and sliced one tooth down Darcion’s back.79

Darcion awoke to find it well into night, the sky black and full of stars. He was sweating and felt weak. He sat up and walked back onto the grounds and into the main hall, where the headmaster, who looked quite concerned, met him.80

“Where have you been, Darcion? I had half the instructors looking for you.”81

“I fell asleep in the woods. Sorry, but I’m really tired right now, my sleep was exhausting. I will make up any missed work tomorrow,” and with that he began to walk towards the bedchambers.82

“Wait Darcion, you are bleeding from your back! Come to the infirmary now!”83

Darcion was hurried to the infirmary where the healing mage saw to him. He was slipped out of his armor and a build up of blood from a back wound spilled in a fountain to the floor. The mage hurriedly healed the wound and placed a spell of blood replacement to return the blood to his torn body and sealed the wound to prevent any re-opening. Then the mage became frightened and ordered the boy to sleep in his own bed.84

“Why did you send him away? He should have slept in here, should he not?” came the confused question of the headmaster.85

“That boy was hurt by a dragon, sir. I know for a fact that there are none in this area, but a dragon’s tooth slashed him as a dying blow, common to their kind. This boy fought and killed a dragon, but not here. He was not fighting here, I know. I found evidence that he fought strenuously for several hours’ worth time, or even extreme use of his muscles for a short time. It cannot be explained in any normal terms.”86

The headmaster looked at Darcion in shock, staring at the peaceful way he slept in the mage sleep. Then for the first time, he noticed the large image seemingly engraved into his chest. He touched it and Darcion winced, so it was still raw, fresh. He looked to the mage for explanation and found only a strange look of question. How could this be? The mage later told him that that he image was bound to him by magic that it was very powerful and he could not break it. He prepared a message for Sir Felix about Darcion and sent it on the way. His mind raced as he struggled to contemplate the possible ramifications. A boy of 14 defeating a dragon? Impossible! Even Sir Nataos, a former king, was average until his twenties. His mage must be incorrect. With this thought cemented in his mind he retired.87

Darcion awoke to Raynor looking at him in a strange way. He sat up and immediately regretted it. His back was in pain and his chest was afire. He understood the back pain, but his chest made no sense. He pulled back the covers and found himself looking at a massive dragon image, burned into his chest, glaring and wreathed in fire. Raynor started at the sight of the dragon. Darcion pulled the covers on right away and slipped on an undershirt. He swung out of bed and stood on shaky legs. Raynor walked over and gave him a hand in getting into his armor. When Darcion felt he could stand on his own strength he motioned for Raynor to stand to the side.88

“What is going on? Why are you looking at me so funny Raynor?” were the first words out of Darcion’s mouth.89

“You have slept for two days, the healing mage has requested a transfer to be away from you, there is a Dragon on your chest, and you’re asking me what’s going on? Be serious! Darcion, the mage told the headmaster that you were gravely wounded fighting a dragon. That is impossible to my mind, but I believe what he says. Did you fight and beat a dragon?” was Raynor’s awed reply.90

“I fought a dragon in a dream after I left you yesterday. I went to my place of solitude and was sitting, when I think I passed out. In my dream I was in a world of black and gray and I fought and killed the dragon on my chest. But that is impossible! I did defeat it, and it sliced my back with its dying attack! This is not possible! What has happened to me?” Darcion replied almost fearfully.91

Darcion looked at his hands and began walking out the door. His face had become a mask, hiding the turmoil of questions within him. He could feel the stares follow him through the halls on his way to his first class. He took his usual place in the back and tried to act like nothing was different. His teacher came to the back and spoke to him in whispers about his missed work, which Darcion started on right away. The class was spent ignoring the murmurs and quick glances in his direction. He finished early and left to go to his place of solitude. He found it the way it had been last night, leaves still on the trees and a patch of blood on the rock where he had lain. He touched the blood and looked at the ground in a complete lack of understanding, as though trying to pull answers out of the ground. Nothing felt right, nothing made any sense. What had happened here in this grove, his grove? This place had been his one sacred place, his small area where he was himself, away from the pulls of the world.92

But it had been defiled, a forgotten gash in his past ripped open with no explanations. He could remember now, somehow the wall in his mind was gone, leaving his memories free to see. He remembered that night with perfect clarity, walking into the house, seeing his mother die and fall to the floor next to his father, and then the change occurred. In his inner eye, Darcion saw his muscles ripple in the shadows, the way flames drew to him, empowered his young frame. He saw through different eyes, cold eyes of silver, almost glowing in the firelight, as they saw the fire and the thief, peered right through him. The way he held the sword was not a normal way for him; totally different from the way his father had taught him. The blade shook with a power Darcion did not understand as flames leapt from the house and wreathed the sword with heat that should have burned Darcion’s hands, instead making them glow with a gold aura. The final blow was struck and he saw he mouth, grinning with fangs. Darcion was startled out of his reverie by a crunching on the old leaves. He peered around to find Raynor standing in the center of the clearing, staring around in wonder.93

“You sure can pick the spots, hmm Darcion? You’ve been out here for almost an hour, so you better get back or you’ll miss another class. Is this where you disappear to all those times, where you practice those strange moves you demonstrated during our match?” asked Raynor.94

“Yes, this is my place of solitude, my shelter. I come to think or yes, to practice my strenuous training. I disappear for so long because I spend the entire visit going through each part of my training. Well, you have found me so I guess it won’t be such a secret place anymore, huh?” was the sighed reply of the saddened Darcion.95

“Oh, don’t worry about that, I would not tell anyone for any reason. I followed your trail of leaves to see what you do when you disappear. You did call me a friend, so I thought you might enjoy some company. Is that all right? I don’t want to be a bother to you, so if you want, I’ll just forget about this place altogether,” questioned Raynor.96

“Thank you for your concern, just please do not get in my way during my training.”97

Thus reassured in the security of his place, he began his training, starting with his tree walking and jumping. Raynor’s jaw dropped just like during their match and Darcion smiled. He jumped from branch to branch and never fell once, a great improvement over his former tries. He was getting rather warm so he removed his armor and undershirt and looked at the dragon staring at the world in a threatening manner. He ignored it and commenced his wall training, balancing the weight of his arms and swords at his sides to prevent falling. When he retrieved the katanas, Raynor stared in complete surprise because they were supposed to be illegal in the human kingdoms. But, he quickly forgot about any comment as Darcion began to twirl and spin, the twin blades a blur as they whipped around in incredible speed and clearly power. If Darcion wanted to he could cut halfway into a tree, Raynor speculated as the katanas spun and slashed air, the dexterity of the user quite amazing. To finish Darcion swung with all the speed and power he could put behind them and thudded home into a nearby rock, penetrating in several inches before stopping.98

Raynor sat staring and tried to piece together everything in his mind. Darcion could and was practicing Samurai techniques here in the forest, was in possession of illegal weapons that could get him thrown into a castle dungeon for treason, and was skilled enough to easily kill everyone at the academy. This was incredible, absolutely astounding. That he was this prodigy was a huge lift to his ego, something he needed after seeing what Darcion could do. If they fought again, Raynor would be ready. He said goodbye to Darcion and returned to his room. There he examined exactly how Darcion had disarmed and KO’d him during their match, and began a way to avoid or counterattack such abilities. It would not be easy because Darcion’s speed was incredible, sometimes difficult to track with his eyes. But that could also be his downfall. If speed was his ally then Raynor wouldn’t try to match it, which he perceived as almost impossible. He practiced ways to trip up Darcion’s speed, ways to increase the resistance to his movement, because they could win him the match. The disarming technique was easy to defeat, he added materials that absorbed vibrations over the closer edges of the blade and hilt. Darcion’s other skills were much more difficult, especially his wall running. Somehow he had to force Darcion to return to the ground. He thought of something and began a plan to use if he sparred Darcion again.99

One week later Darcion awoke and put on his shadow black armor, planning to run and train before classes. This was not to be as Raynor ran up and told him that he and Darcion were to spar again today, so they were exempt from classes to prepare. He noticed a strange look on Raynor’s face, like cold determination, and brushed his hair out of his face.100

“So you got your rematch, hmm?” asked Darcion.101

“Yep, but don’t expect it to be so easy this time to simply knock me out. I’m ready for you,” came Raynor’s almost detached reply.102

And with that strange conversation, the two parted, each to prepare in their separate ways. Darcion went to his place of solitude and practiced his most difficult technique, the standing levitation. There was no spirituality in the technique; he simply focused all of his body’s energy into lift himself, to releasing the weight of his mass through his legs and body. He could feel his body lifting, raising above the ground almost one foot. He could control his direction of movement and he could use his speed almost like flying. The only problem was that he could not fly very high yet, so he could not use it as an effective defense or offense yet. Then he fell to the ground, finding it very difficult to keep up that level of energy use to float. He had learned that very few ninja ever master that technique because it is so exhausting without the use of powerful magic to keep your energy level constant.103

Then the time of the match arrived and Darcion was waiting. Raynor arrived with much more humility than last time, but his face showed that he thought he held all the cards. They went to their opposite sides of the ring and awaited the starting command. The seats around the stadium were filling rapidly, almost every person on campus there for the fight. The overseer of the fight stood to the side of the ring and fired a magic ball over the ring to light the arena for the crowd, but not the fighters, as it was night. With this signal the match began, and Darcion launched himself into some foliage on the side of the arena to hide himself against the leaves. This was something Raynor had never seen so he steeled himself against any attacks that might come from anywhere. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the arena, the noises of the crowd currently deafened by magic at Darcion’s request. 104

Darcion was slinking through the few bushes and saw something he was pleased with, a small ledge within his long jumping range that he could get to silently. He jumped and landed without making noise and stood still to observe the arena below, and felt Raynor’s mind searching the darkness surrounding him. He reached out, his senses absorbing every important detail of the night and translating it into useful information. By chance he heard a slight movement of Darcion’s foot on the ledge and his light breath. Darcion realized his mistake and pulled up his ninja designed facemask to disguise his breathing, but it was too late, Raynor knew where he was. If he stayed on the ledge, Raynor would reach him and Darcion needed more space than the tiny ledge, so he jumped down. 105

Raynor turned to face him in the shadow, his smile showing his pleasure at the match. He ran forward, his sword in basic attack placement, and Darcion prepared the disarming posture. As Raynor attacked, Darcion brought his swords up, to hit air as Raynor pulled his blade out and to the side, making Darcion do a double back flip to avoid the slash. Raynor was not used to that acrobatic maneuver, but pressed on with the attack; using techniques he had designed himself for this fight. He punctured a hole in his own shield and thrust his sword through it to attack with a large and fast weapon, the spinning part of the technique making it very hard to attack. Darcion ran up the wall and Raynor smirked, throwing a small set of magically adhesive plates of metal directly into Darcion’s wall path, forcing him to jump away from the wall. But to Raynor’s shock, Darcion appeared to stop midair and hover. Darcion had employed the levitation ability to protect himself and allow a brief reprieve from Raynor’s assault, his new strategy and skills astounding.106

The crowd was silent as Darcion floated 10 feet above the arena floor, swords drawn, looking at Raynor with awe at his improvements. Darcion then tried to control his flight and found that he could, to his astonishments. The extreme effort fighters were using drove them to their limits and beyond, improving both their skills. He flew lower and swooped at Raynor who stood staring at him inn anger and confusion. The mages in the audience felt a powerful energy radiating from the boy and Darcion’s swords began to glow. Sir Felix and his mage advisor had come to see how much he had improved, but when they saw this they began to run towards the ring. Darcion did not notice the radiance emanating from his blades, or if he did he ignored them as if normal, and grinned. Fanged teeth shone in the darkness and his eyes could see with perfect clarity through his silver cat’s eye pupils. Raynor dropped his sword and held up his shield in an effort to protect himself. 107

Darcion flew over to him and smashed the shield to pieces with a single bow. Realizing that this was not the same Darcion, Raynor conceded defeat and dropped his weapons. Darcion then fell five feet to the ground and was unconscious in seconds from his total exhaustion and what the transformation had done to him. The mages ran to the field and began searching for what set off the transformation in the young boy. In the distance a dragon was heard roaring from the Hydra’s Forest. The healing mage found that a small magical orb had been attached to each the swords that Darcion used, and when they were tested for their magic, they showed that they were rare and valuable Draconic Crystals, which had the power to bring dormant abilities to the surface with the first sense of heightened emotion. Someone had known that the boy was a Dragoon, when even the mages did not know, and tried to bring his powers into the light. This was a serious matter and several knights including Felix met to discuss the boy’s future.108

“This boy is a danger to all humans! Why do you think we killed most of them in the first place? To let them roam free? Nay! We should kill him know!” came the loud and whiny voice of Sir Xavier, a bigot of the highest caliber.109

“He is of no more danger to you than the cat you keep at home Xavier! I raised him as my son! Yes, I know now that the boy is a Dragoon! But that does not change the fact that what happened last night was a malicious act designed to stir us up while something slips through the cracks! Darcion is innocent of any blame! I shall not sit back while a coward of a knight tries to persecute him!” yelled Sir Felix angrily.110

“Calm down, both of you! This is a serious issue, yes, but we are not deciding whether or not to kill the boy. We are here because Felix has shown this boy’s promise as a future knight, but someone conspired to make us fear him, and to reject him to the world. This shall not happen, I will not allow it. Xavier, your bigotry and fear of unknown things is extreme, and nothing you say will be considered, unless you can forget your fear and be rational,” came the strong retort from Sir Narcos, the balancing force of the knights, a strong leader with even stronger ethics.111

The meeting was thus begun with facts presented from mages and those that had knowledge of how a Dragoon’s powers can be fully released without transforming. Xavier sat in the back of the room and raged against all the knights in the room for even listening to this drivel. That boy needed to be destroyed, and now, before he became a threat to everything around him, and so began the plot to assassinate Darcion began. He would do whatever it took to destroy that Dragoon, the word burning in his mind, glowing red as he tried to think exactly how he would kill him. Darcion had been in a disturbed sleep for days, and every time a mage tried to dream walk in Darcion’s mind, he would be soundly rejected, thrust out of his mind and the mage would lie shivering for a few minutes in horror at the rage and other pulsing emotions ripping through that young mind. 112

Felix would sometimes try and help him, but to no avail. Every mage told the same story, that an incredible battle was being fought in that mind, a battle that would decide what controlled Darcion’s mind, the Darcion side, or the angry Dragoon that wished to be itself. According to Felix’s own mage, the only mage that was not immediately cast out of Darcion’s mind, Darcion was ragged, was fighting so many opponents that he might soon lose, but then a new light overcame the boy and he appeared as though refreshed and began the fight anew. 113

Here is what happened the night of the match between Raynor and Darcion inside the afflicted mind. He was excited; the improvement of Raynor was almost shocking at how well he had increased his skill, Darcion’s first real opponent. Then when Darcion started levitating and the gems hidden on his swords glowed and Darcion felt that wall inside break again, but this time he was still inside screaming as his dormant powers took over and tried to kill Raynor, his surrender saving his life, then Darcion fell to the ground unconscious. He awoke in his mind in a world the same to the one where he fought the dragon. He was faced with a small army and their leader, a dragon larger than the one fought last time. Darcion drew his swords and fought for hours to him, days in reality, slaying a great many of the army, but not without taking several hits himself. Then his anger that he might lose because of his weakness unlocked his Dragoon powers in his mind and Darcion was covered in a bright light and was healed. 114

Then his swords gleamed and shone with incredible power and Darcion was like a force of nature, unstoppable and possessing incredible fury. Soon the gray and white army lay dead around him, the dragon the only foe left. It breathed flame at Darcion, but he dodged with incredible speed and slashed the dragon’s side with one of his swords, slicing deep and unleashing a steaming torrent of blood. The dragon roared in pain and spun to face Darcion, but found him on his back, cutting his wings to ribbons. The dragon’s roar was full of pain and anger as this boy killed him with little effort as Darcion jumped on the mighty lizard’s head and ended its pain with a twin thrust of his glowing blades, and then cutting off one of the dragon’s teeth and placing it within his belt bag. Then, pulling his armor off, he stared as on his arm that dragon’s image etched itself against his muscles and he felt a new power rush through his veins.115

Then Darcion awoke to find Felix sitting next to his bedside, looking very concerned and almost desperate. When he sat up, Felix shouted in surprise and almost fell over backwards. The healing mage found Darcion sitting up and looking around in confusion and Sir Felix standing, his chair knocked over in his rush to stand. When the mage examined Darcion, he found no significant injuries, but there was a new dragon image burned into his left arm, coiled around the muscles. When examined, they found that it was magically kept there; no magic could remove it without risking Darcion’s life. Darcion requested his clothing and armor and dressed quickly, then asked some questions. When he learned of the length of time he spent unconscious, he was very surprised, and told them that he had fought a long battle that ended with the death of that dragon. 116

When Sir Felix heard this news he rushed to find his mage. He then pulled the dragon’s tooth from his belt compartment and showed it off, giving it to Felix as a gift. The mage calmly walked into the room and explained the situation to Darcion, that he was a Dragoon, but he would not be treated any differently, he would simply be magically prevented from using his Dragoon skills. Upon hearing this earth-shattering revelation, Darcion got out of the bed and left the grounds. When he entered his place of solitude, he found Raynor waiting for him.117

“Raynor, I’m sorry, so sorry. I know I must have really scared you out there on the arena, but I didn’t know, ok? I just learned this information myself. I just found out that most of my life was a lie; my parents weren’t really my parents. I was given to them to be raised so that I wouldn’t be ‘discovered’. Please don’t be angry, you’re my only friend,” pleaded Darcion.118

“I understand your situation completely. The only difference between you and me is that you have just come into your powers, but I have known about mine for years. I am no Dragoon; I am in fact a White Knight. Not many people know about them, they were very rare to be found during the transformation of magic. My powers are not very developed and you could have killed me the other night. I do not hate you; I am actually pleased that you are a Dragoon. Now I know that I wasn’t being beaten by some normal human, but was in actuality being defeated by a Dragoon. Ah, I see you have no idea what a White Knight is, so let me inform you. They are normal people with holy magic skills, like healing or attack skills similar to yours in fact. I come from a long line of them, all keeping their identities secret. They were all fearful of being persecuted for their powers, but I have no such fear. I want to show you something and I think you will be impressed. I have no sense of rivalry between us, and I intend for it to stay that way,” and with that Raynor stood up and faced Darcion.119

Raynor began to glow and suddenly armor covered his entire body, silver in color and covered with holy runes and symbols. The armor glowed and shone with holy power, showing that the armor was incredibly strong and protected by holy magics. Raynor’s helm only covered part of his head and he smirked. Darcion stepped back in surprise and then stared at the glowing armor in interest. He walked over and actually touched it, feeling the power pulsing in strong waves. He pulled out his sword and touched it to the armor to find that he couldn’t even scratch it. Then without warning, Raynor collapsed and the armor disappeared. When Darcion approached him, he found Raynor panting with fatigue from keeping the armor there that whole time. When Darcion sat him down on a rock, Raynor looked up and seemed to ask, what can you do?120

Darcion stepped back and focused on what he seemed to be able to do as a Dragoon. He remembered one thing and floated off the ground effortlessly, moving just by leaning and going as high as the tree branches before he stopped. 121

Then he drew his swords and focused on flames consuming them. His blades shone red and burst into flame and he slashed directly through the tree he floated next to, setting the leaves afire. He searched his mind for other abilities and found an image of ice in the back of his mind next to the likeness of the sun. He focused on the ice and his blades became like ice, freezing the flaming leaves and anything else they touched. When he centered his mind on the sun, the swords became like the sun itself, lighting up the dark forest with radiance unseen before and revealing a small shadow beast in the leaves near Raynor, approaching stealthily. When the light touched the beast, it burned it, seeming to peel it away from the earth and vaporize it. When he stopped his focus the light dimmed and Darcion floated back to earth, Raynor looked at him in a new light, like a child seeing a new toy. He stood by himself and took one of Darcion’s swords to examine it, then made it shine with holy light as he showed off his one White Sword ability. He cut through the rock he had been sitting on, splitting it in half.122

“Well, that was certainly very impressive. Would you like to train here, sparring, using our abilities? I am dying to try my armor in combat, and surely you cannot wait to try your swords on another sword? This is a wonderful chance, no? A White Knight and a Dragoon being friends? I look forward to what the future holds for you and me, what challenges we shall face. I shall stand by you, if you stand by me. Soon all will know my secret as well, do not worry. I shall take the same trials you face friend,” and with Raynor’s words the two clasped hands, neither knowing how much this bond would be tested by the world and those around them.123

From then on, Darcion and Raynor became close friends. Raynor told everyone about being a White Knight, an occurrence that stirred up the teachers even more than Darcion’s revelation, for White Knights were incredibly rare and very powerful. Darcion and Raynor were shifted to special training sessions involving mages to test their magical aptitude towards their race’s skills. Darcion was under much heavier scrutiny than Raynor, because his race was much less trustworthy than Darcion’s. The boys were allowed to use their powers in special battles for just them that were carefully overseen. All of their equipment and persons were carefully scrutinized to be sure no more incidents like the one that occurred during the second fight. 124

Because of the rigorous training the two did against each other, both found that their skills increased in strength and length of time the ability could be used. The headmaster was actually quite impressed and pleased that he was the headmaster of the first squire’s academy to teach both a Dragoon and a White Knight, something that was virtually unheard of in such times. The word of such a rare occurrence of two powerful students spread as fast as the rumors and soon many Knights of the local King were arriving to meet the aspiring knights. The word among the people of Xavier’s castle was that Darcion was out to take the kingdom for himself and would do anything to get it, but was the opposite in most of the other states.125

One night, Darcion was just coming from a training session with Raynor when he heard a strange flute that seemed to grab his attention. He felt like he was no longer in control of his own body and followed the sound of the flute until he came to a clearing in the forest surrounded by a magical barrier. In the center a cloaked figure stood playing the flute. Darcion focused hard to break the spell cast by the flute and his spirit succeeded in gaining back control of his body. But it was too late as the barrier closed behind him. When he cast aside his own cloak, he stared at the figure that stood hooded with arms crossed under his thick canvas. When he drew his hood back Darcion recognized him as Sir Xavier. Darcion immediately drew his swords, for he knew the stories told about this particular knight and the feelings he harbored against Darcion.126

“Ha, ha, ha. So, you know the stories, the rumors, hmm? Yes, I do intend to kill you, but you shall not be given the honor of a crossing of blades with a Knight such as I. I have no intention of drawing my sword, for I can destroy you with this very flute. Heheheheh. Only we humans are claim to this world. Elves are vile in their arrogance, and the others of this world shall not last. Only we humans, and I shall see to it that you will not be a problem in the future,” claimed Sir Xavier.127

And with those words Xavier brought the flute to his lips and began to play. Darcion felt the sensation come over him again and he fought the grip within his mind as though fighting a chain of iron. The fight was very hard, but Darcion broke the bonds holding him hostage against his will. The flute stuttered in Xavier’s hands and he looked up in surprise. He smiled and pressed his lips against the mouthpiece and played the opening notes of a different song. This time Darcion felt an incredible pain in his body as though he was being ripped apart from within. Darcion fell to the ground and rolled in the leaves and grasses on the forest floor. As he roiled in pain, almost screaming, a rush of energy came over Darcion, a feeling almost as though he were floating in an ocean of magic, then he felt like he was falling back to earth. 128

He felt like he was looking through eyes seeing even better than his normal vision and he could see every detail on Xavier’s face as his eyes grew wide with horror. 129

Then Xavier seemed to be getting smaller and the flute no longer affected him, that he was taller suddenly dawned upon him. He looked down to find his human form gone, replaced by the immense body of the dragon on his chest. Keeping his mind from losing control, he glared at Xavier, deciding that it would be better to end this now and figure out what to do about being a dragon later. He reached out and whipped his tail at Xavier, snapping the flute and slamming Xavier against his own barrier. Realizing that he could not win, Xavier fell to the ground and begged to be forgiven, praying that Darcion would not hate him. 130

Darcion heard a voice in his head, telling him to focus on the image of his human self. As he did, he felt himself coming back to earth and returning to normal. When he got up and walked over to Xavier, picking him up off the ground like a limp doll and found that the pathetic Knight had fallen unconscious and soiled himself. 131

The barrier collapsed and Darcion dragged Xavier with him, handing him over to the headmaster and telling the story. The next day he received that Xavier had been de-knighted and was living in shame as one of Felix’s serfs. Raynor had him tell the whole story and when Darcion told him that he had transformed into a dragon he almost fell over. He couldn’t believe that Darcion had reached such a peak in his training during such an event and tried to think of how this might help him. When Darcion fell asleep right there on the bench, Raynor realized that he needed rest more than he had thought, and carried him to his room.132

Darcion was allowed to rest for a few days by the headmaster before being sent to a nearby forest for active training with his more advanced abilities since there were no facilities prepared for such training as with a dragon. He would be taken into the forest with two or mages who were trained in different magics to see how effective his transformations would be against such power. The first day he attempted to transform, he was only able to bring about the transformation of his smallest form, Girantin the Forest Dragon, and was only able to defeat one mage before the other used a fire spell to disable him. After that his abilities grew with each transformation, as though simply transforming increased the amount of Dragoon energy he could hold and use at one time. After only a week Darcion was able to use most of his forms and each forms special powers. One of his favorites was Yraith the Stone Dragon, who could turn his whole body to rock and meld right through solid stone, enabling him the power to infiltrate any castle he wished. 133

Soon Raynor was allowed into the forest training sessions, and after several very extreme battles between the two powerful beings, Raynor was involved in every single trip, as it seemed almost as though their powers only grew after fighting stronger opponents. The two would enter the forest from opposite ends and try to find ways to get close to the other without revealing themselves. Darcion would transform into one of his many forms or simply use his various stealth techniques, including those he learned from Ninja tomes such as the Invisibility Spell, and attempt to use his heightened senses to detect Raynor’s movements among the trees. Raynor was a whole different matter because of the difference in their abilities, starting by first sending out a wave of holy energy through the forest to create a map of the entire forest inside his mind and allowing him to keep from getting lost. 134

He would then create holy armor depending on the level of threat placed by this forest area, from level one to four going up in defense of each level, and he could also empower each armor with one or two elemental defenses that changed how the armor would function on his body and how well it would defend him in certain situations. Raynor was far less skilled in keeping his presence hidden, so he preferred to find a Holy Armor combination of elements that would blend in with the trees and foliage, and sometimes was successful. Darcion was fond of moving through the forest in Yaratoma the Shadow Dragon form for its ability to become invisible to the naked eye, so he could come up right behind Raynor and strike without warning and win the round very quickly, but doing such involved using most of his energy and left him very tired for the rest of the day.135

One day Darcion and Raynor decided that it was time for another match after a week of abstaining from them because their last match had left both passed out and almost dead from exhaustion. They had battled face to face for hours, blades crossing and powers clashing in a spectacular lightshow that shook the trees around them, animals and birds fleeing the forest in fear of the warring tyrants. Darcion shook hands with Raynor then transformed to fly to the other side of the forest where he waited for the signal from the mage overseeing the two today. It came, an explosion of blue light that sent birds frantically clawing air to escape from the sound. Darcion stepped forth into the gloom of the forest and sat down immediately. He placed himself on a patch of moss and focused inside of his mind, on his abilities. He saw the many Dragon forms available, but today noticed one that he had never seen before, one that was shaded out, as though it was there but not there at the same time. This was a strange thing as he had gained all his previous forms through a dream battle with the beast, but he knew that that only meant it was a powerful being easily capable of destroying his more meager forms. He directed all his energy to the new form and saw color fill the image, revealing a massive dragon of immense power, Bantrotis the Dragon of Darkness, and he melded himself into the image. 136

He opened his eyes to the heightened eyesight of the dragon’s special eyes and blinked several times. His body was immense, gigantic in stature and muscle. He extended his arms and found them fast and almost quivering with strength, claws as long as the swords Darcion preferred curved wickedly at the end of his long fingers. He opened his mouth and let out a roar, unleashing the horrifying sound that was the roar of the sound of the Dragon of Bane. Darcion watched with some degree of awe as animals fled the forest at great speed, all searching for any way to escape from the beast that had taken over their home. 137

Raynor heard the roar from his side of the forest and couldn’t help but shiver as the sound of that roar, feeling traces of fear enter his stomach, like a slow poison that would sap his strength and fill his mind with dread. He called upon his holy armor and drew the defense from bane twice, turning his armor pure white and sent waves of Holy magic flowing through the forest. Darcion felt those waves and moved towards them, feeling as though Bantrotis was drawn to these waves like a moth to flame. Raynor ran swiftly to a clearing and stood in the middle, waiting for Darcion to come, meditating slightly as he knelt before his sword. His heart fought against the roar of Bantrotis, his soul battling the fear wrought by those awful sounds. Then a rush of courage warmed his heart, and he stood proudly awaiting his opponent. He called up a shield of Holy magic, its runes protecting from the evil in Bantrotis’s voice and eyes.138

Banedragon, as Bantrotis is sometimes called, is a dragon of power, one of three. The other two are Darsantris the Holy Dragon and Arktraton the Dragon of the Elements. These Dragons hold each other in balance, Arktraton being the neutral one in the war between Darsantris and Bantrotis that has lasted for generations. Only a few Dragoons are capable of calling upon these dragons, and only one Dragoon may become Darsantris. His power is sacred and that strength only allowed for the chosen of heaven. Bantrotis possesses the power of fear, and its voice strikes despair into all who hear it, his eyes casting death upon those who he sees with hate. Though he is of the bane power his heart is not black for he was created with the creation of the Dragoons and cannot feel hate towards humanity as such. As Darcion wandered through the forest, he could feel the bane magic in his veins and did not hate it, but he kept it from taking his mind. 139

He controlled the way his heart moved and as such was protected from the evils that magic concealed. He came to the clearing where Raynor awaited him and he stepped from the cover of the trees, his head staring down at the young Holy Knight who stood ready for combat. Darcion drew back one massive clawed hand and smashed the ground, poisoning the grass with his touch and rotting it away as he held it there. Raynor likewise placed his sword in the ground and the grass there grew fuller, longer and with each passing moment the two opposites grew towards each other. When the two powers met, there arose a great red light along the borders of the warring energies, making the clearing shine with an eerie unnatural crimson glow that made Darcion's black eyes gleam red as blood.140

Raynor drew his sword from the ground and ran forward, his shield ready to counter any attack Darcion might throw at him. Darcion saw this and lunged out with one hand, knocking Raynor back but not over as his shield held back Darcion's heavy claws. Raynor’s sword gathered Holy Energy and shone with pure white light as he swung with all his might and slid under Darcion’s claws to head for his chest. Realizing Raynor’s target, Darcion jumped back to find Raynor clambering up his back towards his wings. With a roar of rage Darcion twisted his neck and snapped at the shining squire as he bravely stood his ground and fought back against those claws and teeth even as Darcion flapped his scaled wings and took off into the air, jaws still trying to break through that barrier of light that was Raynor’s shield. The two fought furiously, flashes erupting wherever the two powers crossed, the mages overseeing the fight almost trembling as they felt the amount of magical energy flowing through the air. There was enough energy in this one fight to destroy all of this area for miles, and if a disaster like that were to occur the area for miles around would be instantly vaporized it all into thin air.141

Raynor’s eyes had lost their color and were now glowing with pure white magic as the power of pure Holy magic coursed through is veins and allowed him to access the final level of his Holy Armor, known only as True Holy. His eyes closed briefly, then radiance even greater than before exploded from every inch of his body, briefly blinding Darcion to his form, one clawed arm shielding his eyes from the light. When the light faded, Raynor stood transformed, his sword massive, shield like that of a Angel, and spires of Holy power covering the incredible armor that now covered his entire form with unbreakable protection, two wings on his boots and two small wings coming from his shoulders. He threw his head back and let out an incredible sound, like that of a chorus of angels. The Bane magic in Bantrotis quivered with rage at hearing that sound and Darcion's voice matched Raynor’s in sound and the world around them seemed to freeze as the sounds fought for domination. 142

Darcion felt his own voice weakening because his was not the pure Magic of Raynor’s, so he lunged forward with his jaws at Raynor in a last attempt at defeating his. His blow caught Raynor by surprise, but it was not enough to hurt him, but instead made him fall from Darcion's scaled back, plummeting at the ground at an incredible speed. Right before he would have hit the tree layer, a set of four small wings popped from his sides and allowed him to glide back to the ground safely. Darcion landed and the battle continued his claws ready to rend Raynor’s holy guise. Raynor didn’t move, instead just stood at ready and aimed his sword directly at the heart of the dragon and waited calmly. Bantrotis tried to take over the body and control Darcion, scaring the young knight with the ferocity of his attempt, but still Darcion was able to suppress the evil inside him. 143

Darcion lunged forward with his wings thrusting backwards to add that boost of speed to his charge, claw extended to their maximum. Raynor dodged with an amazing speed and stopped next to where Darcion’s arm had come to rest after the huge attack. He slashed downward with his massive Holy Blade and cut deep into Darcion’s scaled hide, black blood flowing freely from the cut as sparks flew along the gash. As his blood sprang from the wound he roared and gathered energy in his mouth, blasting forward with Bane magic at Raynor, the black flames seeming to poison the air around them and clashing mightily with Raynor’s shield. Raynor pulled back his sword from Darcion’s arm and jumped forward into the flow of banefire, his sword cutting the hellish blaze in half as he attempted to reach Darcion’s head. Darcion put even more flame into his breath and Raynor’s progress became slower, but he still moved forward towards his goal, the head of the giant beast. Darcion closed his mouth and dodged his head under Raynor, his move unexpected and caught the True Holy Knight completely off guard, allowing him to bite directly into Raynor’s body armor. 144

He could feel his Bane dueling against the Holy Energies being cast forth by Raynor’s spell. Raynor yelled in a strange language, clearly in pain and stabbed downward with his massive blade, piercing along Darcion’s eye ridge. It was Darcion’s turn to feel incredible pain and opened his jaws enough for Raynor to mount the head and gain a strong grip along the horns. He then held on as tight as he could as Darcion struggled to free himself from the White Knight on his head, but Raynor was steadfast in his grip. Darcion attempted another strategy and whipped his spiked tail at Raynor, but found that damned shield ready to defend Raynor at all costs. Raynor then let go of the horns on Darcion's head and plunged his sword into the center of Darcion's forehead, piercing half of the six-foot blade into his head. He then jumped as far as he could and let Darcion fall. 145

Darcion did not fall. Instead as the sword stayed in his head, a strange light grew from that wound, blood flowing down his nose to the ground. As the light grew, the scales around the wound became white and pure in color, gradually spreading to his entire head. His horns and head were changing with along with the color of his scales, the wedge shape becoming less cruel and more powerful in stature, the horns more impressive and beautiful than spikes. The Holy light spread down Darcion’s torso, wherever it touched becoming white and stronger in power. It reached the wings and they transformed from the black horrid demon wings of Bantrotis to the angel wings of the Holy Dragon, feathers of pure holy magic hanging from each wing. The claws on his hands and feet became longer and straight, their sharpness and power increasing. When all of his body had become white, the sword then came out of the skull and flew back to Raynor’s hand, Raynor himself staring in shock at the sight before him. 146

Darcion couldn’t move, his body afire, as he struggled to control the power inside of him. He turned his head to look at Raynor, and then roared in pain. He focused on his human form through the pain, and felt himself return to normal. He fell to all fours and coughed, some blood filling his mouth as he struggled to understand what had just happened. Raynor was also on the ground, passed out with pure exhaustion from keeping up the True Holy. The Time Mage responsible for this battle teleported to them and then took them straight to the academy’s infirmary. Healers gave Raynor a sleep draught then turned back to Darcion, who had fallen beyond all consciousness, his body in a total state of shock. 147

He had been in the form of bane magic, when it was taken over by Holy power, overriding every function at work in his body. His body was fighting to stay alive, as the remnants of the two magics fought inside him. Sir Felix was rushed to the castle and he stood by Darcion’s beside for three days, unable to eat or drink anything more than water. Inside Darcion’s mind, he was torn apart by the two warring powers as they fought to control his body for their own. While the Holy Magic did not want so much to take Darcion over as to control his mind, the Bane magic wished only for death through the powerful young warrior. Darcion fought as well, his heart fighting the influence the two opposites were exerting on his body and mind. 148

Then came a major difference in the battle of the three, Darcion being visited by the now wakeful Raynor, who cried his eyes out at Darcion’s situation, his tears giving Darcion strength because he could feel the love from those around him, his part in the battle gaining much more potency in the clashing forces. The Bane magic quickly succumbed to the combined might of two magics fighting it, but then Darcion was alone to fight the Holy magic still within him, but Darcion would not fight the holy power, knowing that it meant him no harm and he should not attempt to fight its power. The Holy manifested itself in the form of an angel of purity and light, with beautiful wings extending from his back. He spoke to Darcion’s heart.149

“Oh young warrior, you are of great strength of heart and mind, even I could not make you fall to my power. You have gained favor in the eyes of the Heavens young Darcion. Be ready for the day when you will be called to honor your decision here. You have decided to fight Bane and ally yourself with Holy, goodbye young Darcion, Oh squire of Heavenly favor.”150

Darcion’s eyes fluttered open and he stared at the ceiling while his vision cleared of haziness, trying to understand what had just transpired. He looked over to find Raynor on his left and Sir Felix on his right, both sound asleep with their heads on their chests. He smiled and lay awake, simply thinking of how strange a life he had, and he smiled widely. It might be unique in every way, but he loved it for that reason all the more. As he stared into the crags and chips in the stone roof, he thought about his friends and those that cared for him and he suddenly had a flashback of his mother, Adail singing a song in his childhood after Darcion once again came home battered from taking the place of the smaller boys. He remembered her sweet voice drifting through the air, her soft hands soothing his stinging face and bruises.151

“My little son, whose arms are ready to defend, when will thee find your peace? Your heart is pure and your mind strong, when will your soul be at rest? You stand up to anyone who steps on the weak, but yet you never let yourself be eased from your wounds. I cannot see those scars, the pain left on your heart, but I know they are there, my little son. So rest now in my arms and let me hold you. My arms are warm and ready to hold you, so never fear because I am here.”152

As he remembered the words he felt his turbulent soul calm and his heart find peace, tears springing to his eyes as he thought of those times where he rested in her arms. Her song brought sleep to him and he fell into slumber, his dreams peaceful and without conflict for the first time in many months. His mind stayed with the images primarily of his oldest memories of his parents and home in Sir Felix’s bailey. The nurse that checked on Darcion late that night found him sleeping peacefully, with tears at his eyes and light cries coming from his mouth. She brushed back his hair and wiped the tears away with a cloth, then left the three sleeping men to their peace. In the morning Felix awoke to find Darcion sitting up and watching him with a happy look in his face, then leaning over to embrace his adoptive father in thanks and love. 153

Felix shed one small tear, but brushed it away before any could notice then the happily wrapped his arms around his young squire. Raynor awoke and apologized profusely, over and over to his friend, Darcion repeatedly having to reassure him that he didn’t blame Raynor at all, for how could Raynor have known that Darcion’s powers would react to the swords power? The three stayed and talked together for a long time, Darcion telling Raynor of his encounter with that Angelic magic, Raynor’s face a study of emotion and confusion as Darcion told his tale. 154

Then, with Darcion’s recovery a definite thing, Sir Felix was sent back to his castle and Raynor was returned to regular duties. Staying in the infirmary was dull living, and Darcion resorted to amusing himself by creating dragons the size of his palm using his magic and having them fight. This became great sport and he had soon assembled a small crowd to watch and bet on the little creatures. This continued for several days until one of the little things attempted to bite one of the crowd’s members, so Darcion stopped the games and was released the next day to rest in his quarters. 155

After several days rest, Darcion was allowed to continue his training and he was overjoyed at the chance to continue his practice. He had been told several days ago, that no battle of such magnitude between the two was to be allowed because of the danger in such a situation. Bantrotis was forbidden unless accompanied Darcion and watched over him every moment, and definitely not near Raynor. His training progressed faster and faster with the skills of both warriors increasing at incredible speeds, the discovery of their ultimate powers pushing them on to retain those powers and control them at will. 156

Raynor had since been unable to summon up the power of True Holy, and Darcion's ability to become Darsantris would not return to him. So the two trained their hardest, pushing their limits to the point of exhaustion. Both had already excelled in their classes and were undoubtedly the best students in the Academy, but after that fight they led them, taken as lead squires for the academy and its purposes. Darcion and Raynor became legendary around the grounds for their powers, most of the students wouldn’t even bother coming near them anymore as they had moved beyond the potential of every other squire.157

Squires were chosen for knighting if they proved exceptional skill, loyalty, bravery and respect for honor. The two newest squires at the academy showed the extreme devotion to these principles that fairly shocked the king’s advisors. When he had called upon the headmaster to see if any of his squires had met the requirements for knighting from this batch. He had heard, as the every king had, of the two of the academy, how they showed promise to the greatest leaders the Human nations had seen since the great war 200 years ago when Kings Frintarth and Erinsyth fell to the dark horde, but not before taking almost a thousand of those unholy forces with them. The headmaster nervously stepped forth and gave his report on the collection of the squires this year, strangely leaving the two boys for last. When the king inquired as to the boys that caused so much ruckus at the peaceful academy, the headmaster appeared hesitant then plunged forth on a full description of the boys and their abilities, leaving nothing out and telling all to the King including every form and power that each beheld to their race. 158

After much thought, the King told him that no knights were to be made this year as he did not think even those two were quite ready at such young ages. When the boys were 17 the judgment would be made to decide their knighthood. The two hopeful squires at the academy were told this new, and did not stop training for a second. They worked themselves to the bone, going to sleep as soon as their sweaty heads hit their pillows at night. Everyday they awoke early and prepared for the day, performing their duties with pride and honor. The next few months passed in kind with mornings spent practicing before taking as many classes as possible during the day, then practicing in the evening. 159

Darcion's 16th birthday came and went with little recourse, a small party from Sir Felix and Raynor, Raynor giving him a special set of gauntlets built precisely to his hands with his claw functions included and Felix gave him a new breastplate that was magically treated to enhance his stealth abilities. Then the year continued with no other mention of birthdays because they were working too hard to think of such trivial things. 160

Then on Darcion’s 17th birthday, he awoke as though any other day. He attended his first class, battle strategy: advanced army planning, and aced an exam on moving an army according to how the terrain changed and where your enemy has placed their encampments. He was leaving when Raynor ran up, out of breath from looking for him all over the academy. He grabbed Darcion and ran towards the front gate, explaining as they went.161

“Darcion, you have been called to the castle for knighting! You must assemble anything you will require for your journey. The supply cart you will be riding with has been waiting for almost half an hour. Where have you been? I have been looking everywhere for you! Oh and Happy Birthday!” exclaimed Raynor in a rush.162

Darcion immediately rushed to his room and grabbed his things, then dashing through his window he snuck to his place of solitude and wrapped the katanas in cloth and rushed them back to his room before any knew he was gone. When he returned he finished his packing and slid his sheath’s belts around his waist, his favorite place to wear them for easy access. His armor was already polished to the extent of its black gloss shine and his hair was prepared in a tail with long bangs. He brushed one of the bangs away from his right eye out of habit because it just slid back into place to the side slightly covering it, giving him an almost mysterious look. He never wore leg armor because it was far to limiting to his range of motion, and instead wore light pants with a chain mail hanging over his hips and groin. This allowed for maximum movement without leaving his legs completely exposed. His boots were modified again to allow for spikes, hooks and a knife in the toe for bad moments. 163

He checked his appearance again and was satisfied. He walked out to the waiting wagon and hopped next to the driver, a normal serf. He turned and waved to all, and jumped off quickly to embrace Raynor, not forgetting his only real friend. Jumping back on, his adventure at Squire’s Academy ended, and he recalled his best moments like his first real match and becoming friends with Raynor. When he tried to recall back to his younger days, Darcion found it difficult to remember those times, days full of work and basic pleasures. He had made his father proud; he just knew it. He was also happy that he had pleased Sir Felix, who though he tried to be like a father. Without realizing it, Felix had begun a chain of events that would change the world in its entirety.164