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A/N: I will not be starting this over anymore. I am satisfied with my new beginning.

Blade the Dragon Warrior
by: Will Sanborn and Ian Sleeper


Chapter One



War as it was, was a big concern to everyone. It was not healthy for people to live during the Dark Ages. Most families lost a member to the war that was going on in the land known as Quar. It was tiresome, gruesome, and irritable. Everyone was doing their best to save their land, but tragically, they were failing. The defenses of Quar were weakening.

Part of this was due to the fact that the Quarathians wanted freedom from the Dark Lord who's name was Geogon. This Dark Lord had ruled over Quar for decades, without anyone opposing him. He had far too much power for anyone to try to stop him. It was not until a rebellion was formed to fight the Dark Lord's men, in the last hopes of saving Quar. This rebellion had fought vigorously for years, trying to weaken the Dark Lord's men, but the attempts that they had made turned out to be fruitless. They were losing the war, the people of Quar were going to lose their freedom or their life.

Then as they were about to lose the war, they sought the aid of the Dragon Warriors, who are from Mrae Ludar. These warriors were one of the last chances the land had of being freed. They whole heartedly joined the Dark War, without coming up with any tactics at all. Led by Don, each of the Dragon Warriors flew to Mt. Thuundar where the last battle of the Dark war took place. It was five of the greatest Dragon Warriors on its peak, and they were facing the Dark Lord himself. Held in his hand was the blade of anger, Guruth, the most feared blade anyone had ever layed eyes upon.

The five of them had very well crafted swords from dwarves and elves. Each of them held the hilt of their sword tightly, facing them with pride. This may be the last breath some of these men will ever have, but they were going to die with pride and honor, knowing that they were fighting for what they had believed in. The blades lowered, pointing directly at the Dark Lord's chest, but he did not seemed troubled at all. Without much of a warning, the Dark Lord lunged at the five of them, fighting them all at once. Not only had he skill with his sword, but grace as well. He evaded each attempt they had made in attacking him, but they could not so much scratch his armor. Not only that, but the Dark Lord was able to counter them with some of his own moves. With two swift swings of his blade, he killed two of the Dragon Warrior.

Thousands of miles below the other Dragon Warriors and the Rebellion were on the ground, watching the Guruths advance on them. The Guruths were a race that was a cross between man and a troll, though they were not crossed bred, like some people had thought when they first saw them. It was the appearance only that people went under the assumption of. This race was a bizarre one, usually serving no side during a war, but apparently they were convinced by the Dark Lord to join his side, something that did not please the Council of Quar. Guruths are not very intelligent at all, nevertheless they are vicious when it came time to fighting. They would use any weapon available to them, no matter what it was. They showed no fear at all, they only brought fear. They did not believe using horses as slaves to burden them, so they walked wherever they went. The numbers of the Guruth were vast, at least three times the amount the Rebellion and the Dragon Warriors had all together.

The people in front of the ranks held their pikes nervously. None of them expected to see such a large number of Guruths. A few thought about fleeing for their own life, not caring about Quar anymore, just for their safety, but they stayed anyway. Others held bows in their hand, readying the drawstring, so they could fire at them when the time was right. Another group held shields, and they stood in front of the archers, and behind the pikes. Normally the shieldsmen would be in the front of the ranks, but this time they were ordered to do otherwise. The rest of them were warriors who bore other weapons like swords.

"Fellow brethren!" cried out a man who was mounted on a white stallion. "Fear is nothing but a curse. A plague. It is bound to stop us at what we are here to do this very day. Do not let fear get the best of you. It is very tempting, aye, but that does not mean you have to give in at all to it. I know you are scared, that is all right. Fear and scared are not the same at all. They are two different things, and I'm here to tell you what they are before the Guruths advance on us."

The man mounted on top of the horse was Favalon, the son of Favalar. Dressed in gold armor, he looked over at all of the men that were before him. A full helm was covering his face, sweat was beading down his face. Slowly, he reached for the helm, and pulled it off, so his shoulder length brown hair could be seen, along with his facial hair. A pool of emptiness stared back at the men who came to fight the Guruths, to fight the Dark Lord. How could he tell them that they had very little chance of returning back?

"Fear is something everyone dreads. It is something everyone runs away from at least once in your life. You let it overpower you, you let it take control of you. Fear is just a mind trick on you, nothing more than that. Aye, everyone has fear, but the only way to get rid of fear is to face it head on, like you would with the Guruths. Being scared is different. You are afraid that you are going to lose your family, your kin, and everything you worked hard for. But you do not let it take over you, you do not let it overwhelm you. You stand up to it, face it like the men you are, and you ride out to those Guruths, and face them in the war. You will not back down, but you still are scared. I am not afraid to admit that even I, Favalon am scared to what lays in front of us. Just remember who you are doing this for, and your hearts will remain true."

Everyone remained silent, no one so much shifted in place. They all soaked in the words that he spoke. Each one of them knew it was true, that what he spoke of was true. Anyone that wanted to leave the ranks before did not want to do so anymore. None of them were going to let fear overwhelm them, they were going to take whatever weapon they wielded, whether it may be a bow, a sword, or a even a spear, they were going to defeat the fear that was taking control of them, and then they were going to slay the Guruths that entered their land.

"So who will fight along my side?" questioned Favalon. "Who will scream out in the ancient language who we are, and what we are fighting for? Our forefathers have spoken the very language that we are about to speak before riding to war, who will yell it with me? To yell it with me, and to bring fear into the hearts of the Guruths. I ask who will?"

Men began to holler out in the ancient tongue the saying that their people spoke before a great war, one that they knew they were going to be vanquished in. When they started to holler, rain started to pour down, thunder crashed, but it did not drown the cries of the men. Lighting flashed, giving light to what was before them. People who carried torches were slowly being put out. This was going to be it, the war that they were going to fight in, the one where they lose.

Back at the peak of Mt. Thuundar, the three Dragon Warriors still fought against the Dark Lord. The three still fought with their swords, the Dark Lord still countered each move that they made. Since it was only three Dragon Warriors left, Geogon was able to concentrate more on his dark magic, something that none of them could protect themselves from. The only advantage was that the dragons were immune to whatever magic that the dragons may have been hit by. One of the Dragon Warriors did not get so lucky. His dragon feared the magic, unlike the other two dragons, and slowly it was backing toward the edge. The rider tried to gain control, but the dragon fell backward, with the rider mounted on top, plummeting to the ground.

Now the two remaining Warriors were now in the air, hoping that the Dark Lord would follow in suit. The Dark Lord, Geogon brought fear into everyone's heart, no matter who the person was. The armor he wore was a mix of iron and mithril, a very rare combination. It would be near impossible to pierce the armor he had on him, making him near invincible from all attacks. The helm he wore was made out of the same combination, and was shaped like a dragon's head in a way. It is thought that if you stare at the helm long enough, then you could see the fire in the Dark Lord's eyes, the spite he had, the rage, the fury, and even the coldness in his heart.

The battle raged on for what seemed like days, neither of the two Dragon Warriors that were left were getting tired by the attack that the Dark Lord brought. Geogon was growing agitated by the two of them, something that did not happen too often. Apparently these two were able to keep up with any strike he had made, something that never happened to him before in his life. Then the Dark Lord of Quar decided to lure one of the two into a pointless assault on himself. He purposely left his side vulnerable for an attack. One of the Dragon Warriors, Don, swiped at the Dark Lord's side with his sword, hitting the armor, but not piercing it at all. The Dark Lord brought the hilt of his sword, and hit it so that Don fell of his dragon, falling to the ground.

What the Dark Lord had not expected was his dragon to race down and save him in time. Though he did not fall all the way to the ground, he was still hurt from how fast his body was moving. Don was barely able to keep the reigns of his dragon in his hands, as he took his sword and stabbed the underbelly of the dragon, making it scream in pain. The Lord of Quar roared with anger, bringing his own sword, thrusting it in the stomach of Don. It went through the armor that he was wearing, leaving him almost breathless. He then fell off of his dragon, dying as he fell. It went through the armor that he was wearing, leaving him almost breathless. He then fell off of his dragon, dying as he fell.

Down below the men of the rebellion heard the roar of the Dark Lord and panicked. Then one of them pointed out the body of Don, falling to the ground, they all had fear once more. A black dragon flew to the ground, blood gushing from the underbelly of it. It was the Dark Lord, Geogon, and he was going to take his anger out on the rebellion.

"Let the people of Quar know this," he hissed. "I shall enslave every single one of you. I will burn all your villages, towns, cities for what the Dragon Warrior did to my dragon. You will all suffer!" he cried, a thunderbolt struck from the sky as he spoke, creating a large flash that blinded everyone. Somehow the Dark Lord vanished along with the thousands and thousands of Guruths. Thus the celebration began.

The rebellion brought back the body of Don, they could not find the other three bodies at all, no matter how hard they had searched. Marching back to Mrae Quarathian, the capitol of Quar, they brought news to the High King, Quzar, and the Wizard Ithrandir. At first they were dumbfounded, and did not speak.. Each of them could not believe what had happened on the battle field, they both feared that the Guruths would be marching to that very spot. They could not convince them though.

A decade past, and the people of Quar had heard no sign of the Dark Lord at all. This created them to relax more then ever, a mistake that was on their part. Quzar and Ithrandir had tried to convince the peoples that the Dark Lord was not gone, that it would be a matter of time before he was back, before he slaughtered thousands of more people because they were not prepared for another attack. All the people did was laugh.

And return he did, with a larger army, fulfilling the promise he had made, burning the villages, burning the cities and towns, enslaving the citizens of those areas. Countries were taking over, only three survived the onslaught. The countries of Emmar, Saranoth, and Magnus were the only free countries left. Emmar was the country that the wizards lived in, Saranoth was the largest nation for the race of men, and Magnus was where the Dragon Warriors resided, along with a small group of wild elves, who did not want contact with any side at all.

The horns were sounded once more, the rebellion was to defend Quar again,allowing none to leave alive. And with all that was going on at the time, Don's body went missing. No one could complain about what happened though, since they had more important issues in front of them. The rebellion was not as prepared as they were ten years ago. They were decreasing quickly. It was not until the High King of Quar summoned the Grand Army of Quar to meet the Dark Lord's army on the battle field did things turn suddenly.

The two armies combined were killing the Dark Lord's, and as soon as they got to the last Guruth, an army of varders swept through like a wildfire. Every single man in the rebellion and the Grand Army died, leaving none alive. It was the worst massacre ever for the people of Quar, it signaled the end of the three free countries.

Sitting miles upon miles away was the Dark Lord, sitting on the throne in his palace. He was pleased with what was going on, he loved the power he had, the power that no one could take from him. Every part of Quar was now ruled by him, no one could withstand that power. Though only one person had more power than he, but she was in no power to use it. Trapped inside the tainted orb that was a prison for her, keeping her powers in check. Only one thing could release her form the prison that she was in, and it resided throughout the country, the eight shards of Quar, accompanied by the Book of Lost Souls, which was sealed elsewhere, protected by magic.

"The Dark Lord shall rise again from the fiery hell whence he came from." said a cloaked figure in a low muffled voice. "He shall rise once more, to rule the lands that were once his. All shall be helpless to the power of the Dark Lord. He shall rise again from the fiery hell whence he came from."

The figure burst into flames as he said this. It had a menacing look, even though a hood remained over his face. In its left hand it gripped a sword that bore ancient markings. Taking a step closer it began to walk slowly and carefully. Breathing slowly, it made a hissing noise every time it exhaled. With slowness he wrapped his right hand around the hilt of the sword, raising it high into the hair, and swinging it downward.

***

Trotting at a face past, racing through the dense forest, five varders were mounted on black mare horses. Each of them wielded swords, gripping them tightly, prepared to slay anyone who got in their way. Each one of them were dressed in black clothing, all looking identical. They had to be cautious by not getting seen at all, for no one can know what they were up to. The Dark Lord had wanted no one to notice that he was going to take someone who was of great importance.

Coming to a sudden stop,the varders came to a great wall. Since they could not go through the main gate, they would have to find another way in. They were racing to Mrae Fortifur, a small city that had someone that they were looking for. So far they had not been seen by anyone. The leader of the varders climbed off of his horse, taking his time as he walked to the wall before him. Sheathing his sword, he extended his hand to feel the wall. Nothing was unusual about the wall, or so it had appeared. What he was doing was searching for a weak spot on the wall, making another way to get in.

The other four watched what he was doing in silence, not daring to question him. This was their leader, their lord, and they would do whatever was asked of them. The varder who was in command motioned for one of them to come to his side. The varder that he had motioned to got off of his horse, making his way to his master. Bowing deeply to him, he stood up once more, sheathing his sword.

"What do you see here?" he hissed at the varder.

"Only a wall." he hissed back.

"Not just a wall. See right here," he pointed to a particular spot on the wall. "this is a weak spot."

Taking out a knife, the lord jabbed it into a crack in the wall. Then he began to pry it loose, wanting to get to the other side desperately. The other varders watched what he was doing with interest. The leader did this until he got enough bricks out for them to fit through. Leaving the horses behind, they unsheathed their swords, walking through the crowded market, looking for the right house.

Passerby ran in terror as they saw the varders walking through the market. People who ran went to close shops up, and ran though the back doors. Guards of Mare Fortifur walked up to them, with swords drawn in hand. The varders stopped in front of them, lunging at he guards with their swords. The guards had no chance against the minions of the Dark Lord. Within a few minutes, the five of them had killed twenty guards.

They kept on walking through the village, trying to find the person the Dark Lord sent them to look for. Burning the houses they walked by, they saw that the houses had either kids, women, or were just empty. More guards attempted to stop them, but were slaughtered like the other guards were. Whoever approached them were fatally injured, or died.



***

A pair of green eyes fluttered open from a peaceful dream. Muscles were sore all over from sleeping on a straw mat. Stretching a young adult was trying to figure out what was caused him to wake up from such an amazing dream. Once again he had dreamt about her, and her crystal blue eyes, and her soft brown hair. It was a wonder how anyone could look as beautiful as her. She was like a goddess, and he was someone unworthy of being in her presence. But the smile that she gave him had sealed everything away. It was the smile that she gave to only him, no one else at all, and it made him feel wonderful inside, something, not even the Dark Lord could take away from him. This man was in love, and no one could change his feelings at all.

His hand raced through his short unkept hair as he got up from the straw mat. The room was dimly lit by a candle, slowly waning away. It must have been lit not too long ago by his grandfather, unless he had forgotten to put it out before going to sleep. The only thing that was in his small room, besides his straw bed was a small wooden desk he had carved himself. Seth used his desk to write letters for people, seeing how he was amongst the only person in his village that was able to read and right. For two qwaths per letter, he wrote them, and had them sent to a messenger who delivered it. He knew that soon he would need to go to the market to buy more quills and ink.

It was not the best business to do, but he was satisfied doing it. Writing letters was something he enjoyed doing greatly, no matter what it was about. Sometimes he had to write letters to couples who were bickering, sometimes he had to write to family or friends who lived far away. Sometimes he had to make up stories for the children or grandchildren for them so they would know that the family still cared about him. Sure sometimes he had to lie to people, but it was not a big lie that would cause someone's heart to be crushed, or someone to who would be killed. That was something he refused flatly. Once or twice someone tried to persuade him to do it for a bag full of qwaths, but he refused.

Sitting on the finely carved desk was a letter that he was writing to a Anita Sterlong, though he did not know what else to add to it. He promised at least a page to each person he sent a letter to it, keeping his word of having quality work. Then his friend Gul would take the batch of letters that he wrote during a month, and he would send them to the various places throughout the country. His services only went as far as the border of Saranoth, since the other countries that bordered them were not free like they were. The Dark Lord made a decree that no one was able to send letters or any sort of documentation to the enslaved people, unless they forfeit the right of being free. He and Gul would try to break the decree each time Gul went on one of his journeys to deliver letters, but every time he came close enough, a Guruth would stop him.

Stifling a yawn, he went back to the desk to continue writing the letter. He only had gotten a sentence done when he ran out of ink to write with. Thinking that his grandfather might have some ink for him to use, he walked into the kitchen of the small house that they lived in. It was unusual for him to not smell bacon and eggs cooking, something that happened daily. It was strange, and when he looked into the kitchen, he saw that his grandfather was not cooking like he always did. Something was amiss; it had to do with why he had woken up so early.

"Grandfather?" he asked, worried that something might have happened to the elderly relative of his.

The room was unusually dark, the sun would normally be shinning into the room. Reaching to a shelf that was next to him, he picked up a candle and held it to another one that was dimly burning. His grandfather was an inventor, and he had created a contraption to make it so that if a candle gets close to burning out, the flame would be taken from it and moved to a new candle. How it had worked still amazed him, he never questioned his grandfather's abilities.

Once the room was dimly lit, he began to look for his crazed grandfather. Nothing was unusual about the kitchen, but when he walked into the other rooms of the house, he saw the same exact thing. A mess. Though his grandfather was an inventor, but he was not someone who allowed a mess to be in his home. Something was definitely wrong in the house, and he had to find out what. The only way for him to do that was to find his grandfather.

Taking a closer look, he noticed that each thing belonged to a certain spot in the house. From what he could tell, each thing was suppose to be from a different closet in the house, meaning that someone was searching for something, but could not tell which closet it belonged in. The question that troubled him was what could it be? They had nothing of value, the inventions his grandfather made were useless to people, since they do not know how they work. He hardly knew how they worked.

"Grandfather?" he asked again, still unsure of what was going on.

That was when he heard movement coming from his grandfather's room. The house they lived in was not very large, nor was it very small. It was the right size for the two of them, since they were the only ones who lived there. They had a kitchen, a living space, closets, and three rooms. He had added the third room as a spare room for when Gul or his friend Meghan came to visit.

Walking into his grandfather's room, he saw him throwing clothing out of the closet, something that surprised him. His grandfather was the one who created the mess, something that he did not expect. Reaching his hand out, he put it on top of his grandfather's shoulder. He nearly jumped when his grandfather turned to face him, the candle light hurting his eyes.

"Seth that you?" asked his grandfather in a hoarse voice.

"Yes grandfather, who else would it be?" responded Seth, taking his hand off of his grandfather's shoulder. "What are you looking for?"

"Looking?" questioned his grandfather. "Ah yes. Looking. You have not heard the commotion outside?"

This could have been the reason he woke up. Something was happening to the village, and he was not out there to help them. Seth could not do much anyway, since he was a scribe, not a warrior who was taught how to fight with a sword, or some other sort of weapon. The closest thing he had to a weapon was a knife, and that was when his grandfather took him out to hunt when he was younger. Since then he had not touched anything remotely sharp, besides a quill.

"No, I have not." spoke Seth, his green eyes fixed on his grandfather's dim hazel ones. "What is going on in the village?"

"Varders." said his grandfather, uttering out only that word.

"Varders?" mused Seth, thinking that his grandfather was losing it.

"It is not something to be so smug about." snapped his grandfather glaring at his grandson.

"Then what are you looking for?" Seth's voice now became serious as he asked the question. "What do you have that will ward of varders? Some invention of yours? They are the servants of the Dark Lord, everyone knows that, it will be impossible if you think you can stop them."

"Have you said your peace?" snapped his grandfather once more. "If you must know, I am searching for the sword your father left behind."

This amazed Seth more than anything. He had never heard his grandfather talk about his son-in-law before in his life, or at least from what he could remember. Other villagers would not so dare utter the tale of what had happened to his father, something that troubled Seth greatly. He was deprived of having a real family, though his grandfather was good enough. His childhood was amazing,spending it all the time on some adventure with Gul. Though that had all ended when a prank Gul had done went terribly wrong. Though everyone knew that it was an accident, it had changed him and Gul, which impressed everyone.

"A sword?" Seth asked as soon as he found his voice. "What are you going to do with that?"

"I am not going to do anything with it at all. I have heard talk since dawn that the varders are after the young people of the village, but it is reasoned that the most likely people are you, Gul, and Meghan."

"Us?" Seth asked feeling dazed. "Why us?"

"I am not certain my boy." he said sighing heavily. The Dark Lord does not want all of you though. He is only searching for one. The varders have asked a guard to get the young adult that they were searching for, and the village would be saved." he said pausing slightly. "The guard was able to flee, to warn the other guards to send word to have the young adults of the village to flee. He died on the spot once he told the guards. You three are the only young adults left in Mrae Fortifur."

"Then we must flee?" asked Seth, his voice weakened. "I am only a scribe, Gul a messenger, and Meghan is a partly trained enchantress. How are we suppose to stay clear of the varders?"

"That is why I am giving you the sword." said his grandfather, realizing that he was not looking for it at that moment. "Ah, how silly of me. I forgot I hid it underneath the floor board."

Seth's grandfather began to push everything away, so that he could get to the floorboard. Prying it loose, Seth's eyes were amazed by what he saw. Sure enough it was a sword, a beautiful one for that matter. He knew a good sword when he saw one, since he saw the Smithy forge them from time to time. The pommel had a red jewel in it, something that he had never seen in his life before. The hilt was a gold color, with leather wrapped around it. Next was the guard, that had the resemblance of dragon wings. The sword had no back to it, instead it had two edges, and the tip looked very sharp. The color of the blade was remarkably lighter than he anticipated.

"Race to Lorin's place." said his grandfather.

Lorin was the villager's Smithy, and was a very good person to be around with. Being a muscular man, he was able to do things some villagers could not. Whenever he could, the smithy would help the villagers with anything he could, asking for no pay at all. On the outside he looked like a terrible person. He had black messy hair that was always filled with sweat, his facial hair was just the same, he rarely ever shaved. Lorin was a kind hearted person on the inside though, something Seth had learned almost instantly. Lorin had a hard time looking for someone to love. Once every few months Lorin would come to Seth to write a letter, but he never wound up sending it. He did not mind at all, and told the smithy that he did not need to pay him at all, but he did anyway.

"Tell him that you need a scabbard for your sword, and to get two of his best swords for Gul and Meghan. He knows what is going on, so you do not need to worry. Make sure you grab your cloak as well." he then pulled his grandson into a tight hug. "I love you Seth, take care now. This could be the last time we see each other again."

"Do not say that." said Seth, fighting hard to keep the tears from coming. Never before had he left his village, this was going to be his first time being away from his grandfather.

"Face it Seth, I am old. Any day now I could be on my bed dying, and you get to be out on your own on an adventure. It is something I have wanted to do my whole life. Now be off Seth, before the varders come to this part of the village. Take Gwer, and set off to the smithy's. The sword will be waiting outside for you. Meghan and Gul already know about the varders, so they should be prepared."

Seth nodded to his grandfather, and went back to his room to get his cloak. It was hanging over his chair, right where he left it last. He grabbed all of his parchment, in case he would need it, and took about half the qwaths he had earned. The rest would be for his grandfather, since he would not need it too much. He hugged his grandfather one last time before saddling his horse, and riding off to Lorin who was across the village.

The things that he saw on his way angered him. Innocent people were sprawled on the dirt street, dead. Blood was all over the place, stained on the outside of peoples houses, over the wounded, everywhere. It disgusted him. Seth could not help but wonder how someone could be as sick and cold hearted as the varders. Seth tried hard not to look at the dead bodies that were on the ground. It was too much for him to bear, to see little children who were looking for their mother's dead, stabbed in the chest by the varders. Instead of sorrow taking over, anger flared inside him. Someday he would come back to the village, and he will make sure that he came back with the heads of the varders that killed the villagers.

Within a few minutes Seth had reached Lorin's blacksmith shop. He got off of his horse, and walked inside the shop, which was one of his places to go. Several anvils were there, unfinished weapons were on top of each one. Hung up on the wall were the finished products of Lorin, each one was unique, never the same as another one. Lorin was usually seen near the furnace, smelting ores together to make bars, but not today. Lorin was frantically trying to collect all of his weapons so he could hand them out to the villagers. Once he caught Seth's eyes, he smiled, and walked over to him.

"Grandfather sent you huh?" questioned the large man. "Well I got the things you need, I had a feeling this would happen."

Seth did not speak at all, he was too frightened to. Lorin was like a family member to him, like his grandfather was. It was going to be hard to say good bye, but he knew he had to. Lorin's soft gray eyes met his green ones, and they were filled with hope and warmth, not of despair like some of the other villagers had. A rough hand came onto this broad shoulder, and squeezed firmly.

"You do not need to worry about us at all Seth," said Lorin, smiling still. "I'll help you put these on your horse," he said walking out with Seth.


***

A young woman with wavy brown hair was running through the streets of Mrae Fortifur. Behind her was a lengthy man on a horse. Both of them were trying to flee from the varders that were chasing after them. The young woman was Meghan, an enchantress who had been trying to get the villagers to escape. The young man on the horse was Gul, the letter carrier of Mrae Fortifur. He had brown hair that went to his shoulders, and he started to grow facial hair. He hit the sides of his horse gently, so he could go faster. Once he was close enough, he was able to swipe Meghan up from the ground, and on to the horse.

"Thank you," she said as they rode off fleeing from the varders.

Gul was steering the horse, in hopes of confusing the varders. He had been told to meet at the smithy's place, though he did not fully understand why, nor did he want to. Apparently Meghan was to do the same thing as him, for she was heading in the same direction. As they neared the smithy's, Gul began to slow his horse down, thinking that he was safe. His eyes were focused on what was ahead of him, not what was behind.

Soon they had reached the blacksmith's shop, and saw that Seth was already there, and that the man called Lorin was helping Seth put something on his horse. Gul stopped his horse, and climbed off, helping Meghan off as well. Walking over the two of them exchanged greetings with the other two. Gul eyed the other two weapons, hoping that it was not what he thought it was.

"So I take it we really are leaving Mrae Fortifur," said Gul a little worried. Seth could not see how he was though, he had left the village so many times before.

All Seth did was nod his head in response, and smiled at Meghan. He could feel knots being tied in his stomach as she smiled back with that special smile. He wished with all his heart that he could tell her his feelings, but knew that could not happen at a time like this. More than anything, he wanted to spare her from the trip out of Mrae Fortifur. He had a feeling that she would be the one with the most difficulty of letting go. Something wished that only he was the one leaving Mrae Fortifur, and the others would be spared the torture of leaving home.

"Seth you better come back, who else would be able to deal with the letters that I need to have made?" said Lorin, trying to cheer everyone's mood up. "Oh come one guys, you will see Mrae Fortifur again. And when you all return, we will have a feast at the Black Rose Inn. Trust me it will be great."

"I sure hope so," said Seth in a low voice.

"Well, I will see you to the gates," said Lorin as he headed out back. When he came back he had a horse with him, one of the fastest ones in Mrae Fortifur.

Before Lorin mounted his horse, he went back into the shop and got two small axes,and put them in his belt, telling them that he would rather be prepared if the varders came when they were going to the gate. First the four of them had to stop at Seth's grandfather's house, where the sword was leaning against the wall. Reaching over, Seth picked it up, and he sheathed it into the new scabbard that Lorin had given him. There was one odd thing about the scabbard, it matched almost perfectly, like he knew about the sword long before Seth went to get a scabbard.

The sun was almost fully in the sky when they reached the gate. They had traveled a good hour or so around, so they would not be noticed by others. Guards were no longer at the gate, but the five varders were, waiting for them to come that way. Gul, Meghan, Seth, and Lorin got off of their horses, as they tried to figure out what to do. The horses were whinnying, which had gained the attention of the varders. Three of them made their way to where they were, swords in hand. Lorin was standing in front of the trio, so the varders would go after him first.

Reaching to his side, Lorin took the two axes out, readying himself to strike at the varders. Seth could have sworn that they laughed at him because of the weapon he chose to use. The blacksmith was the first one to make a move. Lorin jabbed the edges of his axes into the front part of the varder's shoulders creating it to howl. Each of them had to protect their ears from the varder's cry, which could be fatal.

One of the varders sliced the throat of the one that was screaming in pain, which made each of them flinch. The third varder took his sword, and stabbed Lorin in the stomach, making him fall to the ground. Seth yelled out in surprise, and he wanted to do something to help him, but Lorin told them to flee. He told them to make haste to go to Mrae Ludar where his brother was, and tell him of his death. Seth kept pleading with Meghan to heal him, but she kept telling him that it was impossible to heal a wound that deep.

Sadly the three of them raced out of the gates, not knowing if the varders were chasing after them. Tears were in their eyes, blurring their sight a little. Seth could feel even more anger bubbling up inside of himself. He felt so helpless that he could not help Lorin, that he made them flee. Meghan had taken the blacksmith's beloved horse, which had a small bag on it. It appeared to have a few provisions, and it had a few quills and ink. Though it did not matter anymore, Seth could not see him going to write letters again anytime soon, even if they were to come back to Mrae Fortifur alive.

It was midday when the three of them finally stopped. None of them had spoken about the death of Lorin, or anything else for that matter. They had allowed the horses to roam a little so they could find grass to eat. The only thing the three from Mrae Fortifur had to eat was hard bread. Nothing was there to help them wash the bread down either. Sitting on the ground, Seth secluded himself from everyone else. It was a long road ahead of them, and soon they would have to take the Favalon Woods, named after the war hero who was once from Mrae Fortifur.

Gul had taken this road on his previous journeys, and knew the road quite well. His knowledge went to the boarders of Saranoth, further than that, he could not say for certain on which way to go. He was the eldest amongst the three, and it was decided that he would be the one to lead them, which he estimated to be about a fortnight of traveling. Seth groaned at hearing such a long travel, but this was something he was going to do for his kin. It was the least he could do, since he had died saving the three of them.

After a short break the three of them got back on the horses, and the animals began to trot at a slow pace. They had decided that it would be best if they conserved energy if varders tried to overtake them. The remainder of the day was quite uneventful, seeing nothing of importance. It was near sundown when things began to get queer. Every time something moved, Seth thought it was a varder, or worse. Paranoia was contagious amongst the three of them, they all thought they were being followed. Once the sun was fully down, they stopped to make camp. None of them wanted to take the road any further that night if they could help it.

While Meghan was making the fire, Seth and Gul thought it would be a good idea to practice with the swords, so they could be able to fend for themselves. It was harder than either of them anticipated. It was more to it then they thought as well. It was difficult how they had to try to swing at someone, and also defend at the same time. Meghan did not approve of what they were doing at all, and decided not to play a part in the sword practicing. Meghan had not even touched the weapon that Lorin gave to them, preferably she did not even want to lay a hand on it. She was too nervous around the sword, and was afraid of trying to practice with it.

An hour or so later, Seth decided to call it quits, and offered to take the first watch. The sword was resting against the tree, which his back was leaning against. In his hand was a quill that came from a feather of a snowy owl. The parchment he had was from cow hide, and was really useful, as long as he did not make a mistake on it. Since he no longer could write letters for people, he thought he would keep a journal of what went on since they left home. Scribbled down on the piece of parchment was:

Denish 15th,

We cannot stay in Mrae Fortifur any longer. Varders are after Gul, Meghan, and me. I need to flee with them to Mrae Ludar, outside the border of Saranoth. It was the last request that Lorin made before he died. He was stabbed by a varder, protecting us from them. Now we are fugitives according to the Dark Lord's law. I have a unique weapon, and I suspect my grandfather knows more than he is letting on. He claims that the sword he had in the house was my father's. My father's! He has never spoken about him before, well that I can remember anyway. I never thought I would hear him at all. I want to know everything about my father, though no one dares to say at the village. His identity is a mystery, as well as who I am. I mean, I know I am Seth from Mrae Fortifur, but my name does not fit with everyone else's, save Meghan. I am beginning to think that we were never born in that village at all, but I do not see how that can be. According to the Dark Lord's law, people are not allowed to leave the lands that they are settled in. Technically Mrae Fortifur does not follow that law, since the country, Saranoth is still free along with the other two. All the others are controlled by the Dark Lord. I cannot help but to feel that I will never see Mrae Fortifur again, my home. Gul is the only one who has ever left the village, he delivers letters throughout Quar. Him and me have a small business going on. For two qwaths I write the letters and he sends them to where they have to go within the borders of Saranoth. It was a swell business we had going, until the varders came. Right now everyone is asleep, I am watching over them, especially Meghan, who is sleeping so peacefully. Sometimes I just want to tell her how I feel, but I feel like it will come out the wrong way. Anyway, we need to go through the Favalon Woods to start our journey. We are still fairly near Mrae Fortifur, though I am trying not to think back on that at all. Since I cannot write letters, I will make these kind of journals to keep track of what is going on, in case anything happens to any of us.

Looking up, Seth noticed that Meghan was reading over his shoulder. He did not even realize that she was standing over him, or that she had woken up at all. Quickly he tried to hide the journal entry he wrote, but Meghan put her hand on top of his to stop him. Seth could feel his face go red, but the fire was too far away for her to see it, though maybe she had noticed from the moon light. It was illuminating her face, her soft complexion, with rose red cheeks and the crystal blue eyes of hers. He easily got lost in them many times before, like what was happening right now.

"What does it say?" Meghan asked, apparently trying to figure out the lettering.

"You cannot read it?" asked Seth after a few seconds, never knowing that Meghan could not read or write. He had always assumed that she could.

"No I cannot. What does it say?" Meghan repeated, keen on knowing what he wrote.

Seth hesitated at first, unsure of how to answer her question. Originally he did not plan on sharing what he wrote down on his journal for anyone else to read at the current time. He always thought that he would be dead before someone actually read it. Then he decided that it would not hurt to read it to her, but when he did, he made sure to skip over the part about her. It was not the right time yet to confess his feelings for her.

"You really must like writing," she said in awe once he finished reading what he wrote. "Though we will come back, you will see." she said kissing his cheek softly, "Just do not give up hope."

That was the first time Meghan had done something like that before. Once she leaned back to where she was sitting, he touched his cheek, feeling the place where she had kissed him. He did not even realize that her hand was still on top of his, and he no longer had the butterflies in his stomach. He was glad that it was only the two of them at the time, and that Gul was asleep. It was a bit relaxing knowing that he would not be up teasing him for being with Meghan the way he was now.

"Will you teach me to write?" Meghan asked in a whisper. "Right like you of course. I want to be able to put words on the parchment, and make them flow like you do."

"Of course I will," Seth said, he could not stop smiling at all.

Chapter Two

Waking up, Seth saw that Meghan and Gul were already awake, sitting around the ashes of the fire they had made last night. His back was aching, and the muscles in his body were all sore from sleeping on the hard earth. The first thing Seth did when he woke up was rolling up his bed roll. Next he walked over to the remains of the fire, and sat on Meghan's left, smiling to her. Then his eye caught Gul's, and something about his facial expression troubled him, but he did not say anything about it. It could be possible that he was jealous of him and Meghan, but he never thought that Gul had a reason to be.

Looking up at the sky, he saw how the clouds were rolling by slowly, their was a soft breeze that was pushing them. The clouds were puffy and white, not a single rain cloud in sight. It was going to be a beautiful day, something they had plenty of. The sun had not fully risen yet either, and it was still fairly warm out. Early as it was, Seth knew that they had to start back up again, or the varders would be upon them, something he did not want to experience at all if he could help it.

Seth was about to get up from the ground to tell the other two to get their belongings ready when his stomach growled. Realizing that he had not eaten yet, he thought that a piece of the hard bread would do him good. They would have to eat in rations, even though their was only three of them. No one really wanted to eat the rock hard bread anyway, for it had no flavor to it. It was better than nothing though.

Reaching over to his sack, he put his hand into it, searching for one of the loaves of bread. To his surprise he had found none at all. It was there last night before he went to bed, and now it was gone. His green eyes darted to Meghan and Gul who were both looking at him. Neither gave any sort of sign about knowing what happened to the bread. Meghan had a look of dismay in her eyes, something that Seth knew meant that the same thing happened to him.

"We woke up this morning and the bread was gone. All of it," said Gul in a downcasted voice. "Something must have taken it at night."

"How?" questioned Seth finally getting up from the ground. "We each took turns watching over camp. How could anyone or anything get remotely close to the sacks?"

"I cannot explain that," replied Gul, "but we cannot sit here and sulk over it. No, we must ride on if we plan on staying safe."

After a few moments of silence, at last Seth nodded, unable to find any means of lingering. Offering his hand for Meghan, he helped her up from the ground, and started to pack his own things. It was not much to do before they mounted their horses again. Really, the only thing the three had to do was to make sure that they left no traces of them being there. It proved to be an easy task, and they were on their horses within ten minutes.

"Gul any clue to how much longer we have until we reach the forest?" questioned Seth, hoping to get to the forest soon. In his mind, Seth had thought that the faster they got into the forest, the quicker they would get rid of the varders.

Gul did not respond at all to Seth's question. Instead he pulled his horse ahead of Meghan's and Seth's and took lead. The two of them exchanged glances, and continued to have the horses trot. They followed Gul in silence for an hour at least until at last the three of them stopped. All of them were famished, and they had not had anything to eat since last night.

Getting of his horse, Gul walked toward a tree, which had a rock leaning against it. Taking his hands, he began to pry the rock away, something that looked odd to Seth and Meghan. They both stayed on their horses watching their companion at work. It did not take him long to remove the rock that was against the tree. It turned out to be a hole, and he started to pull something out. By the looks of it, it was bread.

"Every time when I come this way, villagers supply me with bread for my journey. In return I deliver their letters as well. It is a simple thing, and they put it in the tree for me. This here is home made bread, and it is not hard at all. Also we have water skins here as well."

For about five minutes they ate a small portion of the bread, enough so it would make it so that their stomachs would not growl as much. They each had a sip from one of the water skins, so they could preserve water. Gul had explained that water was hard to come by in these parts, and they would have to spare the water as much as they could. It was not too difficult, since the bread was a little moist. Before they left, Gul put the rock back.

Once that was done, the three of them began their journey once more on the dirt road. Silence was amongst them, no one said a word at all. Wind was blowing, making sand fly into their eyes. Using his cloak, Seth made an attempt to protect his eyes. It had started so suddenly, he did not expect that to happen at all.

"We cannot fight through the sand," Meghan said to Gul and Seth, "We should stop for a while and find shelter."

Seth did not respond to Meghan at all, instead he kept on going, making his horse move onward. It was his persistence that kept him going forward. Meghan and Gul followed their friend without complaint, it was difficult to try to change Seth's mind when it was set to something.

Toward the middle of the day the wind finally died down. They had not stopped since they left the camp site, and had continued on, hoping to make it to the forest soon. Seth shifted uncomfortably on the saddle of his horse, Gwer. His legs were getting sore, and his back was becoming stiff. They would have to stop to rest the horse anyway, but they did not want to quite yet. First they had to make it to the Favalon Woods.

Soon the three of them reached a village. Getting off of his horse, Seth led it to a small patch of grass and had allowed it to graze. Meghan and Seth did the same in return, allowing their horses to eat the grass. Then they walked into the village sticking close to one another, before a burly man dressed in a full plated armor stopped them. An authoritative gaze glared back at each of them, before he spoke.

"What business do you have here in Mrae Ca'l?" his voice was deep, as Seth had expected due to his looks.

Stepping forward, Meghan bowed politely to the soldier. Even if the man had frightened her, she certainly did not show it. That was the thing about her, no matter the situation, she never seemed to show her fear if she did not want to. It was something that he admired about the enchantress in training. Ever since they were young Meghan had developed that ability and a few others. Some things about her though, he did not know.

The soldier that had stopped the three of them was taken aback by her politeness. The sword that he held in his hand was quickly sheathed, and he took his helm off, so they could get a good look at his face. With rough facial hair, and brown hair that went to his shoulders, he was an attractive man. Though his voice and his burly look may be misleading, the eyes the man possessed were kind and gentle, something that none of them noticed at first.

"We were wishing to find a place to sleep for the night. We have money to pay for the stay, that is not a problem at all if that is what you are worried about sir. And we also need supplies for the road."

"I can help you with a place to stay, but I am afraid that the village's supplies were taken by a small band of thieves. If you come with me I can take you to my house. I am sure that my wife will cook you three a good hearty meal. Let me tell you her roast is magnificent."

"How much would you like for our stay?" questioned Meghan.

Seth and Gul did not speak throughout the whole conversation. With much deliberation from the soldier, who introduced himself to be Dol, the four of them were able to go to his house. It was not what he expected at all. Most of the houses in the village were vast, but the soldier's was fairly small. Outside in the well kept yard were five kids playing. Each of them looked only to be a few years apart. The eldest, a young girl looked to be about fourteen. They were running, chasing after one another. Seth smiled in amusement watching them run.

The youngest, a girl as well was no more than two years old, and she walked up to Gul, pulling the cloak that he wore. "Hey mister," she said messing up how it was pronounced.

Picking her up, Gul could not help but smile at the youngest of five. Grime covered her face, and the clothes that were once clean were now covered with dirt. Taking the end of his cloak, he brought it up to her face, and cleaned the filth form her face. The little girl giggled as he did so. Again Gul could not help smile.

"Hey yourself," he answered. "And what is your name?"

"Anush...Anush..." struggled the youngest.

A boy of nine walked up to where Meghan was, and smiled. He was not use to seeing strangers around, let alone three. First before he walked to where she was, the youngster said hello to his father and hugged him. Dol ruffled his hair before going inside to clean up.

"You are pretty," complimented the nine year old named Lore.

"Why thank you," responded Meghan smiling at the little boy, and responded with, "and you are quite the handsome little guy."

"Lore, bring Aneshia in with you and get your other siblings," came the voice of the mother."

"Yes mother," replied the little voice of the boy. Meghan was amused as he was telling his youngest sister that dinner was ready.

"Din din," Aneshia she kept saying.

The eldest of the children came up to where Seth was, eyeing him curiously. Though her other brothers and sisters were covered with dirt and other kinds of filth, this child was immaculent, some how she did not get dirty at all. A strand of strawberry blonde hair fell into her face as she began to speak.

"Where do you three come from?"

"A town called Mrae Fortifur," said Seth in an uncomfortable voice. He had not spoken much about Mrae Fortifur since they had left.

"What is it like there?" she asked, not knowing the pain that he felt about being away from his home.

"Arianna get the water from the well please," called the mother once more, sending the fourteen year old off.

Gul still carried the little Aneshia in his arms, walking into the small, yet cozy room. Following him was Seth and Meghan. Lore was leading them into the dinning room, which had a fairly large table, taking up almost the whole room up. The three offered to help set the table up, but the woman of the house made them sit down. The food smelled delicious, they could not wait to eat, though they felt bad since they could not repay the kind family.

The meal that was prepared for them was an alzmund, a delicate bird that was hunted regularly. Its black feathers were plucked off, the meat was roasted. Along with that they had corn, baked potatoes, and pie. It was like a feast, the three thought in their mind, but it was not much at all to the family. The food for them was little, but the citizens of Mrae Fortifur did not plan to eat a lot at all.

"It is a custom in our home to pray before each meal to the great gods of our land. Usually it would be me or my husband, but I thought Tyke would be interested in saying our thanks."

Tykes was the second oldest, and was the quietest of the bunch. He had not spoken a word at all, which was a shame, for they were enjoying the family greatly. He looked flustered when his mother said for him to say their daily prayer.

"To the god of the harvest, to the god of wine, to the god of war, to all the gods that watch over Quar and our little home of ours, we say our thanks to you for what we have today. It is not much to our large family of seven with three added on to it. We are not sadden by what we have, but are pleased. We are grateful with what we have, and we will eat it with you gods in our minds. We do not eat for our health alone though, but for the men who are fighting in the long war in Quar against the Dark Lord. They are working hard for us, and we will eat the crops that is grown in our land, the land that they have protected. We wish some day that they come back safely, we miss everyone dearly. We thank you the gods of Quar, and please continue with what you are doing for us."

"Amen," said everyone, Meghan, Gul, and Seth were the last to say it.

After the meal was over (Dol had made them eat seconds) Meghan and Seth went out on the small balcony they had looking outside. Gul was with Aneshia, he was already growing attached to her, something that didn't please Seth. "Beautiful is it not Meghan?" asked Seth a knot forming in his stomach as he remembered the last time they were alone together.

"Indeed it is," she said her face was glowing with beauty. A pause came for a few seconds before Meghan spoke again, "You will teach me letters now?"

"I will try," he said. Quickly Seth ran inside the house and went into his sack pulling out parchment, his quill and borrowed some ink from Dol. He came back out and saw Meghan looking at the sun setting.

"The words you write, you describe how the sun looks right?" she asked in awe.

His eyes were transfixed on Meghan's, not looking at anything else. Right there and then he felt that no one else mattered at all besides her. The dangers at hand seemed to be nothing, disappeared from all existence. Nothing, nothing at all mattered to him. "Yes, words can describe how the sun looks, how pretty its sun set is or how the sky looks. It also allows it to compare one thing to another."

"The first letter we shall learn to write is a," continued Seth.

***

"Gul do you have to leave?" asked the little girl's voice, sadden.

"Aneshia, I am afraid so."

Once again the five year old was in the messenger's arms, these two were becoming good friends. He was explaining to her that they had to carry on, they could not stay in one spot for too long or harm would be brought upon her family, or someone else's. When he tried to explain how they already lingered too long as it as, she hugged him, not wanting her best friend to leave. The two of them were walking throughout the yard, under the moonlit night.

"Something to give to you," said Aneshia climbing out of his arms, she then ran inside. She was gone for only a few seconds and she came back out with a necklace.

"Mumma made this for me. I want you to have it." she said holding it out. "We are friends, and always will be. Promise?"

"Promise. I will wear this no matter where I go, I will wear it. Every time I see it I will be thinking about you. When we meet again, you better have not grown at all, understand?" he asked messing up her hair, "Run inside now and get to sleep."

Something that had Gul taken by surprised happened to him before she went into the house. She had jumped up and gave him a tight hug and kissed him on the cheek, like she would with her father. And she said that she loved him, and that he was like family to her. The older man was touched by what she said to him. He hugged her back, and kisses her cheek in return and said good night.

Standing in the shadows was Dol, smiling at the scene in front of him. His youngest daughter was making friends faster than he ever did. He had thought that she would have a harder time letting go of Gul, because a bond formed between them at such a fast pace, but she was handling it perfectly. Walking forward he came up to where Gul was. At first neither spoke appreciating the peace.

"She really cares about you, you can tell that right?" asked the father after a minute or two. "She never was this happy before, you must have had done something to him," he teased, "You do have to leave as soon as possible right?"

comments???

Sighing, Gul could not answer the father at all. It was a difficult thing to do. He did not want to leave at all, he wanted to stay here with Aneshia. If he was given the choice, Gul would stay behind instead of moving onward with his friends. It was something that he wanted to do dearly, but was unsure of how his friends would react.

"Something bothering you son?" asked Dol eyeing him.

"The varders would know if we were here," spoke Gul half aloud and half to himself.

Walking out of the house was Seth, making his way to where the two were. His sword was left inside the house, since he had no use for it out here. Eavesdropping was not something he was fond of, but he could not help but overhear his conversation with Dol. To him it sounded like he was no longer interested riding out safely, fulfilling the request of the smithy. Partly sorrow filled him, since he might be losing a friend, but anger slowly crept into his mind. Coughing he made himself known.

"Greetings Seth," said Dol warmly as if the conversation between him and Gul never took place. 'How goes things with you?"

Seth ignored the welcome, looking at Gul sternly. "Got everything together Gul?"

It took some time for Gul to find the courage to speak against his friend. "My tale ends here Seth," said the firm voice of the newly brave Gul.

"What tale?" Seth asked in disbelief, "This is no tale at all Gul. This is real life, we are being chased by varders, servants to the Dark Lord. Tell me that this is not but a jest. Surely you speak in lies. Varders are after us, the Dark Lord wants us for whatever reason. Yet you want to stay here after what Lorin did for us."

The tension between the two of them was growing rapidly, they both were furious with the other. Gul did something that he normally would not have done, but he was too angry to control his feelings. Unsheathing his sword he pointed it at Seth's neck. He did not know what went through him at all. Seth's hands were raised in the air, showing that he was making no attempt to defend himself.

"Lower your sword," said Seth with little fear in his voice. He knew his own friend by now, and knew that this was out of rage.

"Nay Seth," said through clenched teeth, "You are not one to order me around. And do not dare say that I took Lorin's life for granite."

The sword remained where it was for a few moments. Dol's hand rested on top of Gul's shoulder, trying to calm him down. He tossed his sword, it landed somewhere to their left. Coldly Gul turned around shrugging the father's hand from his shoulder. "I am staying here Seth, like it or not."

***

"You cannot make him go with you, you understand that right?" questioned Meghan the next morning as they began to pack their belongings.

He had explained everything to her when he returned, and how Gul would not be coming with them. It was a selfish thing of him, he kept on thinking, for they were fleeing because their lives were at stake. Not only that, but he was losing his best friend, they have been together since they were very young, and now they were to be separated, probably never to be seen again. Though he was a bit relaxed, knowing that the village would be a little safer with Gul, the only problem was that none of them were skilled enough to fight with weapons.

"Is that everything?" inquired Seth, mounting his horse.

The sun was sneaking into view by the time they were ready to leave. Starting out was slow, the roads revealed little people. Dol had decided to accompany them until they were safe out of the village. Seth had not seen Gul since last night, and thought it was better if it was left like that. Neither of them said good bye, it did hurt him a little that that was not done. Something made him wish that he had, for this could be the last time that they ever see each other. It was like his friend had disappeared in the night, Seth could not find him at all.

Dol's wife had given them enough provisions to last them for a while. Mainly it was food that her family has grown, which seemed plentiful. The two people from Mrae Fortifur were worried that they would have no food for themselves, especially when winter came. Another thing she did was filling up their water skins, so they would have something to drink. Along with that was fresh clothes, and a few other assortments. Both were speechless, they could not find a way at all to thank them for everything they have done, including their hospitality.

The road seemed to be less traveled on than they had anticipated. Not many people travel on this road for various reasons, and Dol had assured them that the road led to Favalon Woods. With a heavy burden and light hearts, the two of them and their horses went on the worn road beginning again their journey to where the Council of Dragons was located. The horses seemed to be fully refreshed, and anxious to start. Seth was surprised how much energy Gwer had. Summer, Meghan's golden horse seemed to have more energy, and her horse was the one who was easily exhausted, and was extremely tired when they had stopped.

Chapter Three

Fire was burning everywhere. Nals were plunging through the city killing everything in sight. Blood stained the streets, bodies were on the ground, the female, mainly the young attractive women and the little girls were stripped of their clothing, their dignity taken. The men were tied to stakes, gutted and beheaded. It was a massacre on the small village, nothing could stop them from their blinded rage. With swords in hand, they killed every single women, children, and men of the village. No one would live that gory day.

The once calm blue sky was in the color red, the same color as the blood that was spilt. On top of a pike that was sticking in the ground was a head of a man, his eyes were pure white in fright. Pounding on the cobble streets were the Nals, killing without a care. They did not care who they slay at all. Women, men, kids, it did not matter to them.

Running toward the Nals were a group of men wearing light battle armor, carrying various kinds of weapons. These men were the only chances the village had for survival. Without them, then the whole place would be lost. Even though all of the villagers were gone, the men would continue to fight, so they could not go anywhere else. They would not be allowed to travel to other places to kill anymore innocent people.

This group of men fought for one cause only. They want the freedom and safety for Quar, and they planned on fighting until they got what they wanted. It was a noble thing to do, but it was near impossible. For decades the army fought in hopes of freedom. Led by Master Valthor, they fought endlessly, keeping that one cause in mind. The Rebellion of Quar would not end their struggle until their goal was met.

Cries of anger and hatred filled the air from the Nals as they started to get slaughtered by the Rebellion of Quar. Arrows were shot at them, swords were thrusted in their stomach, all in the effort to slay them all. On a horse, a man in a dark cloak with a hood covering his face trotted through a clan of Nals, throwing a spear into one of them. His tainted eyes were set on one thing only, the prize of them all. The chieftain of the army was dressed in heavy armor, something that would be hard to pierce. In each of its four hands it held a sword.

Nals were a fearless race known for their temper. They had green shaded scales, and beady yellow eyes. Horns grew from either side of their head, and their ears were only small little wholes, but were very sensitive. They possessed four arms that they used effectively. Sometimes on very rare occasions Nals would only have two hands. An extreme breed of them would have a four legs instead of the traditional two. This made it so that they would have more stable ground than if they were to have four arms.

A volley of arrows were fired at the Nals, a few of them were killed by them. Others dodged the arrows without effort. The warlord slayed his own soldiers if they were injured or got in his way. The look on his face was fearless, and brought fright to every man in the Rebellion. Soon he was upon the protectors of Quar, and with a swing of his four swords, he killed almost a half a dozen at once. Valthor saw this, and brought his horse to a complete stop, dismounting it.

Reaching underneath his cloak, the man unsheathed two swords, facing the leader of the Nals with pride. Both of them began to circle each other, keeping their eyes on the other. Neither made an attempt to attack the other, the two of them waited. While this was going on the men continued to fight the Nals, ignoring the leader of both armies.

Rushing to the warlord, Valthor had his arms outspread, and held both swords firmly in his hand. Striking at the Nals, he hoped to have gotten him, but it simply blocked it with two of his swords, and attempted to attack the master with his other two. Ducking he was able to dodge the assault from the creature. Swiping at its most vulnerable spot (the legs) he tried to get it, but it kicked him in the stomach before Valthor had a chance. On the ground, he began to gasp for air.

A dagger was thrown at the Nals back, which made it turn around. When it did, it saw that nothing was there. A wisp of smoke appeared where the master of the Rebellion was, and grabbed a hold of him. The nals turned back in surprise to see a varder there helping the man is if it was his ally. It was about to charge with its swords, but the varder disappeared again with the man with him. The nals yelled with anger for losing the leader of the Rebellion.

Traveling with a varder has its advantages and its disadvantages. One of them was the quick passage it gave to go from one place to another. The problem was that varders were suppose to be the only ones to experience something like that. A man could only endure so much. The smoke that was created when a varder disappeared was not for a man, or any race (besides a varder) to take in. It was hazardous, and Valthor only allowed that to happen on extreme occasions.

Once the varder and Valthor came back into sight, the cloaked man began to cough. Next he began to look around to see where he was. It was no where near the battle, the varder took him farther than he had anticipated. The first thing he realized was that he did not have his swords with him. The varder took note, and nodded, going back to where the nals was.

The blades were not where the master had left them, which had made the varder confused. Quickly it scanned to see if he could find the location of them when he saw the warlord just yards away. Reaching to his belt the varder named Javour took his mace out, holding it firmly. The head of it was made out of iron, and its spikes were relatively sharp. Stepping forward it walked closer to the two legged, four armed creature.

"I have never heard of a varder siding with the people of Quar," said the Nals in the common tongue of the Gulzon.

"I never heard of the Dark Lord sending Nals to do his dirty work," commented the varder with disgust in his voice.

Without waiting, the varder lunged at the Nals, hitting it square in the chest. It almost lost its balance, but it recovered. Anger easily swept over it. The warlord swung all four of the swords at Javour all at once. Once more the varder turned to a wisp of smoke, and reappeared behind the leader. The bodyguard grabbed two of its arms, pulling them backwards. He brought his knee to its back and sent him to the ground. Rolling on its back the Nals looked up at Javour smirking. Placing his foot on the neck of the Nals it crushed the bones inside, and made it so that he could not breath anymore.

A few Nals saw what happened to the warlord of their army, and fled in terror. Other Nals started to do the same as they saw the body on the ground. A few Quarathians cheered with joy, others had a panic expression on their face. None of them moved from their spot, nor did they sheath their weapons. All because the varder had won them the fight, that did not mean that they were to start trusting him. When the varder looked at them, the people recoiled, and stopped cheering. It looked as if it was about to speak, and speak it did.

"We done," the varder said trying to speak in the men's common tongue. "Go back camp," the varder had been learning their language for quite some time, but he still could not speak their language fluently. It would take a lot of work from Valthor before he could fully speak in their tongue.

Nodding the men started to walk, as the varder returned to his master. Valthor was leaning on his pack with his eyes closed, listening to the many things of nature. As soon as his friend appeared, he opened his eyes and smiled knowing that the mission was completed. Dropping the swords that belonged to the leader of the Rebellion the varder sat down next to his kin. Where they were right now was well hidden, so no one could see them from a distance. Not even the sun could get through, that was how hidden they were from everyone. The trees towered over them giving them protection from anything imaginable.

"The men should be here by nightfall," commented Javour looking around the area. It scanned for any unwelcome travellers.

"You have done well once again Javour," said his friend. Valthor was still wearing his dark cloak just like when he first entered the village.

Javour nodded his head to his master, and began to search once more. Something caught his attention, it was out of place, but he could not figure out what it was. It was an uneasy feeling that swept over him, it was unexplainable. Using his keen sight, he began his search for the thing that was out of place. After a few minutes of searching, the answer came to him. It was a lone Nals walking in the forest with a sword in hand. It troubled him how the creature had gotten so close to where the two of them were. Now choices had to be made. If he was to kill the lone Nals, more could come, for it could be a scout. Or he could kill it, because Javour was sure that it was a matter of time before the whole army came this way, realizing this had safe passage. It did not seem to be heavily armed, or dangerous in the least bit way. It would not harm him to let the Nals live, but if he was wrong about it, then the varder would soon regret letting it live.

"Let it be," said Valthor, as if he had read his mind. "It bears not a threat to us, so we shall bring no harm to it."

The varder did not respond at all, he just sat there eyeing the servant to the Dark Lord with interest. Someone had to have giving away their location for it to get this close to where they were. How, the bodyguard was unsure. Even though he disagreed with Valthor's decisions, the varder would listen to his master's request no matter what. Regardless of what he just told him to do, Javour would not argue his orders.

Coments?

Ignore that chapter three new one posting now

Chapter Four


Denish 35th,

It has been so long since I have seen my kin. I have lost track of the days, they've been going by so fast. We have not even arrived at the Favalon Forest. My hopes have not waned yet though. Meghan is still with me, I am trying to teach her how to write letters and read them. So far we have covered roughly three. It is a slow process, but I think she is learning fast. She can never stop surprising me at all; she is such a wonderful person. Her brown soft hair, her angelic eyes, I feel so incomplete not having her in my life. Though the thing is, it feels like I cannot have her at all at the same time. Besides that, I have soon began to realize that we may never see home again. The very little things I have from home are my horse and my sword. The sword seems to be getting a heavier burden as well. I am beginning to see some sort of writing on the blade, something I had not notice before. I have not figured out what it means, and I am thinking that this sword has some sort of part to play in this whole thing.

Looking up, Seth noticed that Meghan was sitting a bit away from the camp fire. She had been doing that quite a bit lately, and he could not figure out why. Never in his life had he seen her the way she was now. The glow from the fire lit up her flawless face, his heart was pounding from within his chest. Something told him that he should go to where she was and to comfort him, but something else told him to keep his distance.

It was growing rather late; the moon was fully up in the sky to the west. The second moon had just started to rise itself. Quar was a world that had four moons; two are visible in the day, the other two visible at night. Their sun is not bright, that is why they are able to see two of the moons during the day. The clouds were dark covering the sky; it appeared to be rain clouds rolling in. Wind blew softly; it made Seth shiver a little.

An odd feeling was creeping in him, he could not tell why. Probably it was because they had not seen a single varder that day at all. Truthfully they had not seen a single varder since they left Mrae Fortifur. Even if Seth wanted to believe it to be false, he knew that the varders were after him, and that they would be upon them in due time. This was something he did not want to admit to Meghan at all, for she seemed to be peaceful during the past couple of days.

At last Seth got up from the log he was sitting on, and walked over to where Meghan was. Seeing how she was further away from the fire, she was shivering more than he. When he suggested that they go closer to the fire, Meghan looked away from him, turning her front side, so that her back was facing him. Gently, he placed his hand on her shoulder trying his best to comfort her. What she had done next had taken him by surprise. Turning around she flung her around him and hugged Seth tightly, crying. Crying. That was the rarest things that he had ever experienced around her. She was so predictable at times, though crying was hard to tell from her. Placing his arms around her, he began to sooth Meghan, wanting her to calm down.

"It was so terrible," she whispered, though Seth did not know what she was talking about. "It happened when I was little; I was only one or two then. I had wanted something from the market so bad, I was so angry when I could not have my way. I threw a tantrum, and I muttered some words out. All of a sudden a fire raged out, and it had killed a dozen people. My father was in that same fire. My mother decided that it would be best for us to move, so we came here to Mrae Fortifur. I feel so guilty for losing that many people."

It was a brief story, but Seth had the feeling that there was more to it than she had explained. It was best for him if he did not press the matter anymore. Instead he held her in his arms, and rocked her like if she was a little child who had a nightmare. Soothing her was the best thing he could do at that point and time. Even though she had fallen asleep after sobbing for a good ten minutes, Seth still held her. For hours he sat there letting her sleep in his arms, he did not want to get up at all. He knew that he himself had to get some sleep, but he could not. He did not what Meghan to feel like he had abandoned her. Though Seth did not notice, he had drifted into a dreamless slumber.



* * *



Lurking in the forest was a heavily armored man. He stood over a varder who held a crossbow in its hands. A skull shaped helmet was placed on his head, iron plated armor shined from the moonlight. In his hand he grasped his own bow, and a single black arrow. The arrow he had was not meant for the two of them, it was meant for someone else. Glaring red eyes watched the two sleep soundlessly. The fire was slowly dying out, smoke was rising upward. His gauntlet covered hand rested on the varder's shoulder before he spoke in a low menacing voice:

"Do you have a shot yet?"

"Almost." the varder hissed back at the man.

"And your scouts?" questioned the armored man.

"They are ready, at your disposal."

"Good."

The varder went back to aiming his crossbow, trying to find the right place to shoot the sleeping couple. A twig snapped, which made him lose focus. It took him a few minutes to regain the position he was in. The man was looking around to where the twig snapped to see if he could find the source. Another twig snapped; the assassin with the crossbow lost his focus once more. Once he regained it, he shot it immediately, but the arrow vanished. Magic was just used to prevent the varder from killing the two that were sleeping. Turning around it saw that a robed man was walking closer to where they were. Quickly the varder reloaded its weapon and fired at the figure. Again magic was used to make it vanish. The armored man
took his own bow, and fired his black arrow; it too did the same thing as the previous ones.

"Defying the Dark Lord, Hunter," spoke the magic wielder to the one with the black arrow, "Treason to the Dark Lord himself that is something new. He wants the two of them dead. The third does not matter anymore."

"Wizard you show yourself now of all times?" questioned the Hunter bringing his bow down, "And you just cost me a valuable arrow."

"An arrow that I made you no less," he responded.

Both of their voices were cold, filled with hatred to the other. Hunter could not recognize the wizard before because of the robes it wore. His face was covered, so no one could see his identity. Even though he did not want to, the Hunter bowed to the wizard out of respect. Once he rose, his red eyes stared into the nothingness that was behind the hood. The wizard's eyes could not be seen at all.

"Do not tell me you used them all already," the robed figure continued, "Magical arrows take time to make, time that I do not have. Come, you must leave at once; I shall handle the two children myself. My plan is already in motion as it is, and I do not need you to foil it."

"I shall not take orders from you Wizard," scolded the man, "Scouts are ready at my disposal, and I shall do what I have planned, regardless of what you say."

"You may be able to defy the Dark Lord, you shall not defy me." he said with rage. With a wave of his hand, the Hunter was thrown against a tree, "Leave now and take your pathetic scouts with you," said the Wizard before vanishing himself.



* * *



Morning came, and Seth woke up to find Meghan sleeping peacefully on his chest. Gently he nudged her shoulder so she would wake up. Darting up from the ground, she quickly apologized for sleeping on him like that. It took a few minutes for Seth to reassure her that it was all right, but in the in end she gave in. All traces of them ever being there was gone, no one could tell that they had been there for the night at all. Before they left, the two of them ate something small and quick.

Once the two of them were done, they mounted Gwer and Summer, starting off at an easy pace. It was about midday when the pair halted at the outskirts of the forest. It had been a couple of weeks of traveling, but now they had made it to the Favalon Forest. Getting off of his horse, Seth took the reigns of Gwer and started to walk into the forest. Meghan did the same as her companion following in suit.

Something moved from within the forest that made him stop. His other hand rested on the hilt of his sword. Scanning through the forest, his green eyes began its search to see what was moving. It was an animal at least, but Seth wanted to be sure. Keeping close was Meghan, looking around like Seth.

"What is it?" she questioned in a whisper.

It was getting closer, his head turned quickly. He could not figure out what the source was. Slowly and cautiously he continued looking around. Stepping lightly with each foot he began to walk deeper into the heart of the forest. He signaled for Meghan to stay where she was. The rustling of leaves made him unsheathe his sword within seconds. Nothing.

A branch snapped which made Seth turn around completely. It was something. Something that was watching the two of them, circling around where they were. With his sword in hand the young man began to walk closer to where the sound came from.

"Show yourself." called Seth's firm voice.

"Careful Seth." she whispered to him.

"Show yourself." he repeated.

The movement became faster and faster, the noise became less frequent. Closer it came to where they were; Seth was unsure of where to turn next. Something was coming racing at Seth, an arrow that was aimed for him. It slowed down and went in a different direction. Turning his head to his left he saw that Meghan was muttering something that had saved him.

"Thanks." he said to her sighing with how fast she said the spell.

Wonderful!!!! This is a great story.

Wow! Someone commented at last! *screams and faints*

Hey! How are you doing?