BlueBlade (chapter one)

"Borak" ............... "Borak" ......... "Borak"....... Borak was aware of a faint voice, calling his name over and over again. He seemed to be lying down. He could also feel something in his chest, a sort of burning sensation. It somehow didn't feel right though, almost as though the chest was somewhere else. As though the feeling was just a memory. A distant feeling refusing to be forgotten. Darkness surrounded him. Blacker than anything he'd ever known before. Giving the impression of not just an absence of light but of a think blanket of nothing, forcing itself onto him. He tried to sit up but he couldn't move. He tried, will all his effort, to will himself up but he just couldn't move. Is this death? He thought to himself. He had never given much thought to death, it was something that simply happened to other people

Some time passed. It was impossible to tell how much without any events to judge it by. Still that voice rang inside his head. Borak found himself reflecting on his mother, he had never met her. Slaughtered by the Huang army when her village was raided. He never understood why but when the general of that army found a baby wrapped in a blanket among the rubble he adopted him as a son. In a pub he had heard rumours that there was a female survivor from that village now in service at the Kadir royal court. He wanted to see this woman, there was a chance that this was his mother, or at the very least she could tell him something about her. There wasn't a single night he didn't wonder to himself about her. What did she look like? What were her interests? Feeling that perhaps he could find a part of himself in the answers. Well his father was, understandably, upset when he was told of Borak's intentions. The only way a soldier can honourably leave the army is death. Once you'd signed your name on that dotted line you'd given your life to the Huang cause. 'The Huang cause',  something that was talked a lot about in the armies of the south. The Huang were a race that lived in war, a country made mostly of desert the best spots were held by the largest armies. There were no great cities, no lasting monuments, nothing but war and death. Perhaps it was his Kadir blood, but he never felt at home in that dreadful place. He longed for something more, he didn't belong there. He saw it in his colleague's eyes, he wasn't a true Huang. The only reason they put up with him in their unit was because there were few who could wield a sword as well as Borak, he was better then the sword masters, the most elite unit in all of Huang. The only reason he wasn't amongst them was the colour of his skin. Whereas a true Huang had very dark skin his was much lighter from his Kadir blood. No one was quite sure why but his skin hadn't even tanned from the desert sun. His skin was there as a constant reminder to both him and the men around him; that he'd never be a true Huang. But none of that matters now he thought to himself. Is his mind's eye he saw, as clear as day, a circle with 2 lines through the lower-right side. The sign of the deserter, the sign that had been branded on his cheek moments before his dual. Anyone bearing that mark was unwelcome in Huang lands, if he was caught wandering the desert now, he'd surely be killed.

He dimly became aware that the voice had stopped. He found himself wondering if he would be like this forever. He thought he could see lights dancing in front of his face, but perhaps this was his imagination. Through the darkness he thought he could make out a face, very dimly. Not enough to see any features but it appeared to be wearing a brown hood and have a long, drooping, grey moustache. He got the impression that this was the face of someone who had seen many things. Not very old, but weary, almost tired. It faded from view and he was aware of what may have been a faint whisper. The voice, however, seemed not to come from somewhere nearby, but form directly in his mind. 'Seek your father's ruin and ye shall find yourself' it started softly, repeating itself almost hypnotically. It steadily grew more and more intense. Until it felt like a scream. Still it grew, filling his senses with those nine words. His head felt very sore, he felt like maybe it was going to burst, the lights came back, dancing back-and-forth, quicker and quicker. Until they were just a blur, this, coupled with the now painful voice was making him very dizzy and giving him a headache. Then the lights seemed to rush toward him and past him, until the brilliant light was all around him. Giving the impression that he was flying forwards. He heard the sound of rushing wind and the distant burning in his chest grew stronger and stronger, until his chest felt like it was on fire...

He shot up in bed, three pairs of eyes were looking right at him. One of the men bedside turned around and called out, "He's awake!"...
* * *

Mardoc pushed aside the piece of fabric that acted as a door for the tent. He always hated going in here. Maybe it was the constant sound of various wind chimes hanging from the ceiling. Maybe it was the intruding smell of burning incense from the sticks there were scattered around the place. Perhaps it was the unnatural amount of heat coming from the smouldering ashes in the centre. Or perhaps it was the blind, hooded man that could see right inside his soul...
"Ah! Mardoc, I had a feeling I'd be seeing you about now." Came a voice from the darkness of the hood
Of course you did, thought Mardoc, you get a feeling for everything.
"I trust everything went according to plan." the voice continued
Mardoc looked back for a moment, then replied, "Why are you asking me? I know you saw everything that happened, there's nothing you don't see."
The hooded man gave a shook of his head, with more sorrow in it then disagreement, "You couldn't be more wrong. There are many things which I cannot see. But you speak truth, I do already know what happened."
"Well I did what I was told to do. With all due respect do you think it's wise to let him live? If he finds out the truth he's sure to come after my blood. And even with all the armies of Huang between us I wouldn't feel safe."
"Yes, that one has the skill and strength of his father in him. But I don't feel the same passion for blood. For him it's a job. You'll be completely safe."
"I suppose, still sorry to see him go. He's a fine warrior. And I can't shake the feeling that it's a mistake..."
The head under the hood moved slightly. Mardoc suddenly felt very uncomfortable. He started trying to shift his gaze. But nothing within the small tent was there to look at. They all made noise, smelt of something or felt like something.
"You question my judgement?" The hooded man said in a tone of voice that suggested he already knew what the answer will be.
"Of course not." He quickly responded, "I was just voicing concern."
Now the tone of voice coming from the hood told him that was the wrong answer, "Voicing concern? Voicing concern! If you're 'concerned'," the word just dripped with sarcasm, "About my plans maybe I should just leave right now."
"I didn't mean..." Mardoc tried.
"Who was it that told you to back Handis Kahn during the revolution? Who was it that told you the Shaltron Tribe were plotting against you? Who do you consult before each and every move you make?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to anger you. I just wonder sometimes..."
"Did I ask you to wonder?" snapped the hooded man
"No." answered Mardoc
"Then why are you wondering?"
"Well..." Mardoc hesitated for a moment, but since he had started there was no turning back, "How can I be sure you're going to keep your side of the bargain? How do I know