Author's Note: This is the first chapter of what I hope to be a successful story. It's also my first submission, but I certainly hope you all enjoy it.

Note: All characters are fictional. Runescape and all related content is copyright of JaGEx

The horn blared into the moonlit night, stirring the castle into frenzy and confusion. Were they under attack? Was it another false alarm? Lazy and inefficient, most of the guards remained asleep as the sirens sounded, ringing throughout the fortress in a furious howl. Merely a minute later, the fuss was over as the alarms were silenced. A beautiful quiet atmosphere returned to the air, as those that had bothered to awaken cursed their luck, as they rolled back between the sheets of their makeshift mattresses. Everything fell silent, and only footsteps were heard. Sentries, scouting the halls, step by step, in an even pace. There was another set, however. Much faster. Running.

"You bastard!" The doors of the great hall slammed open, as the Commander's Black Knight squad rose, readying their broadswords. Though dark as it was, the candles illuminated the room just enough to make out the young man's figure in the darkness. He dashed forward, dagger unsheathed. The knights charged toward him, spread thin. With a sudden rush, he threw the dagger forward. In a sharp movement, it pierced through the first knight's armor with a terrible squelching noise. The rush of speed made the candle's light dance, before leaving the room in darkness. The only sound was that of the fallen knight's armor clanking against the stone floor. One down, three to go.

The knights remained attentive, holding position. Footsteps, again, but only those of the useless sentries. The situation had quickly become troublesome. The peaceful quiet returned, footsteps halted. Blade against metal screeched, filling the air, as the young man drew his dagger from the fallen warrior. Darkness remained, as the footsteps resumed, growing nearer. In the faint darkness, the nearest knight had made out a figure of a suit of armor approaching. "That you, Spencer?" A questioning hum came from behind, just enough to catch the second knight's attention, before the dagger took action again, impaling his shoulder, and striking him to the ground. The one apparently known as Spencer gasped, frightened and trembling. Two down, and two remained.

"Where is he?" The young voice broke through the air, and both knights immediately readied their weapons. "Don't make me ask again," he threatened. His fingers snapped, and a small fire lit between the remaining knights. At that moment, they realized that he was a mage, and more importantly, that this was their chance. They both charged at the flame, swinging their swords overhead in unison. The slashing of metal was all he needed to hear to know their fate. Another snap of the finger, and the candles around the room were lit once more, revealing the terrible sight before this young magician. The two knights were now dead, each with their heavy blade impaled through the helmet, into the skull of the other. The horrific scene had touched even this assailant. Out of the goodness of his heart, he offered a small prayer and blessing to each of the four knights he had inadvertently murdered. As his tribute and offer were finished, he felt a holy presence within himself, as a God had found it in himself to grant favor to him. With a soft smile, he looked to the heavens, through the decorative glass roof, as the clouds passed, revealing moonlight in this darkened throne. His dagger at his side, he now resumed his task, approaching the quarters of the Commander. His steps kept in time with the sentry's rhythm.

He donned his hood as he entered the chambers of the Commander. He didn't care to know his name. There was only one reason that he had even been here, and as soon as the bed came into view, with a snug little lump beneath the sheets, his grip tightened around the hilt of his weapon. In his right hand, his fingers pulled back to his palm, pressing the symbols etched into his flesh. Air, fire, and Chaos. In his hand, emerged a medium-sized fireball. The moment it had been readied, he launched it forward to the bed, dashing straight behind its blazing trail, dagger in hand, as he plunged it into the mound that lay beneath the blazing fabric.

Suddenly, an eruption of feathers filled the air, burning as they fell to the ground. In shock and dismay, the young mage quickly turned around, gasping, as he was pulled into the air with the Commander's hand wrapped around his throat. Choking, gasping for air, he struggled to no avail, as the foul superior raised his hand to his victim's hood, pushing it back with a hideous grin, that soon turned into a disappointed frown.

"Nero... What is the meaning of this treachery?" The commander spoke broadly, his words piercing through the silence like a knife through butter. The cold gaze on his face remained unchanging as he set the boy down.

"Let me go!" Nero flailed as he was released, stumbling backwards. "You killed them all. Every last one of them. There was no fire, you bastard!" His words were fueled with a fire of spite, hatred, bitterness. "You lied to me. You're nothing but a--"

He was quickly interrupted by a harsh strike to the face which sent him flying to the ground. The commander loomed over Nero, smirking devilishly as he drew his longsword, holding it against the boy's throat. "So I killed them. It doesn't matter, now, Nero. You're one of us, now. A true Black Knight. Doesn't that make you feel wonderful? To work for such a glorious cause, with us, as our first Dark Mage? Don't be so foolish as to throw your life away."

In anger, Nero shoved his arm against the blade, slashing his robe in the process. He stood to his feet, backing away as he bled upon the floor. He faced this Commander once more, spitting in distaste at his feet. "I will never accept this as my home.. And you will never replace my family." His left hand moved, as the dagger from the bed drew from the fluffy mess, aiming, and darting forth into the vulnerable backside of the Commander. With an agonizing scowl of pain, the Commander roared, as Nero backed up further, stumbling to the floor as he bumped against the wall.

The guards and sentries rushed towards the Great Hall, gathering together as they surrounded Nero completely. He was greatly outnumbered, and in a violent fit of rage, the Commander lashed out at Nero, slashing his face with a deep wound that would be certain to carry, if he made it out of this alive. Immediately, the Knights gathered around their Commander, forcing him back, away from the boy. Despite the attack, they were all bound by the code of Black Knights, and made it a priority to watch over one another. Two of the knights rushed to Nero's side, in panic. His eyes closed, and his pulse began to slow. From his arm and facial wound, blood poured, worsening his condition. He attempted to move, but little was able to be done from his position. As he accepted that this would be his death, he closed his eyes, to enter a deep, eternal rest...

"This is not your time, yet, my child. Take my hand. I offer you another chance." A heavenly voice called to him, and despite his state, he mustered the energy in his mind to answer the voice. As he felt the transcendence of a new life coming to him, his actual body became entirely still.

The Commander had turned away to leave and head to the medical station, but upon hearing the murmurs, he turned around quickly, with a sudden rage, as he pushed past his knights to young Nero. "No... NO!" He cried out in anger, as he leaped at the child. His hands reached around his neck to constrict it, but as he knew, it was of no use, as his hands merely passed through Nero's image. His body was fading, and he was being taken away. He was being reborn, elsewhere, by the hand of Saradomin, no doubt.

"What a pleasant day," the old man said to himself as he passed through the beautiful gardens of Falador. The quacking of a nearby duck gave him a laugh, as he stopped to feed it. As the breadcrumbs flew from his hand, the duck suddenly took off into the air. Animals appeared fleeing from a particular section of the garden, as a thud was heard in the distance. "What... An attack?" Sir Tiffy quickly assembled two of the nearby White Knights and charged into the small forest from which the noise was heard.

As he approached the scene, his eyes caught glimpse of the dark robes and fallen body. He motioned the knights to be ready, as he cautiously walked over. His hand touched the shoulder of the fallen foe, but he did not stir. Unconscious, perhaps? A pulse was there, however, and perhaps it was not the safest of things. He drew his dagger, ready to face the opponent in case of an ambush, and quickly turned the body, prepared to plunge the dagger into his heart, when he froze, mid-lunge, eyes fixated upon the face of this one. A deep scar ran across his cheek, and blood was fairly fresh. However, this was not the cause of his concern. This was merely a child! He motioned for his knights to quickly fetch the nurses and medical attention. They left immediately, leaving Tiffy a moment to look to the skies. A sign had formed in the parting of the clouds above. It was likely that this was the one they had been waiting for, but a child? Of the Black Knights, no less... But something was amiss. Wounds like this were not a simple fall and scrape. Perhaps he would ask.. After the child was healthy. He took a look at the necklace around the boy's neck. Definitely a marking of the Black Knights.

"Nero, eh? Interesting..."

Two nurses quickly arrived, moving him to the stretcher, and hastily making their way back to the castle. Some adventurers accompanied the nurses, intrigued by the situation at hand. Something was bound to unfold from all of this, and Sir Tiffy Cashien planned to be at the head of it.