Chapter One:

Forgotten tales

Rain pooled down from the dark, gray-clouded heavens, brining a vast drenching down upon a small village. The border of witch was surrounded by a tall wood wall, on witch were deep scars, made by ages of war and rebellion. Many of the old shacks that made up the village appeared dim and gray, they looked as if time had taken there structural strength, making them unstable and, dangerous threats to there inhabitants.

In one such house that resided at the end of a row of identical houses there came soft voices that dared speak in no more than whispers. A single candle was lit, casting light around the shadow filled room on the houses ground floor. The room was fernitureless and the windows were blinded trapping its light inside. The candle itself rested just on the floor in the center of the square shaped space. Around it's firry light stood two figures. The taller and older looking of witch wore a dark blue shirt with white shorts. Around his waist hung a black belt, strapped to which was a brown scabbard, protruding from this was steel wire rapped hilt. The mans pale hands grasped this object so fiercely that his knuckles turned into ghostly twigs. The mans pale face was set with deep misery and his auburn eyes were dull, almost as if his soul no longer resided in his body. His left hand, the on not gripping his daggers hilt, ran through his wavy blonde hair absently.

Across from him, with a slightly more hopeful look to him was a younger boy, possibly fourteen or fifteen. His right hand like his counter part was on the hilt of a blade, only his was no dagger. Rather it was a great long sword, the end of the scabbard almost touched the ground, this was partly because of its lengths, partly because of the wielders height. The boy only stood a little over five feet tall. He wore a set of dirty boot, a pair of black pants that were unmarked and, a green shirt. Over which was a light brown, leather vest. The boys jet-black hair laid messily atop his head, he looked to be of the rough sort that sat violence rather than avoiding it. The fire of the candle reflected in his cold navy eyes as he glared at it, there were an air of impatience forming around him.

"Greth, cant we go to gilhead yet? Its bin three days that we've had to stay here." The boy's voice had a high whine in it that brought an irritated response from the questioned man.

"No!" Greth snapped, "We will wait until Ednor comes to us, you would do wise to learn your place Ephrane."

Said boy crossed his arms over his chest in mild anger. He didn't like to be told to stay in his place. He had bin trained as a night from a young age but now was a highly skilled thief that still preferred the use of a sword. Old habits die hard, was what he told most who asked about his strange weapon choice.

"Ednor's to damn slow, maybe he should learn proper adequate, before giving orders to others."

Greth's eyes narrowed dangerously, "You watch your mouth ass face, or I might half to cut your tong out."

Ephrane turned away stiffly, though only to conceal his smile. "Soooo…" he muttered softly looking back at Greth, " what do we do to pass the time?"

Greth grunted, "I don't know, got any good story's from the glory days?"

Ephrane tilted his back, out side there came a great roar of thunder and through the blinds came a flash. "Well…" the boy mumbled, "I can't say it really involved me but I have a pretty good story."

"Lets hear then." Greth said, truth be told he didn't care, but if the boy was telling the story there was no room for him to complain.

"Well from what iv herd it happened back in the time of the lion wars." Ephrane began, "There was some guy named Ramza, he was a mercenary that got involved in the war, he was assigned to protect some princess, he didn't do a very good job though, she was kidnapped by that nanten, she was taken to some dukes place were Ramza learned about the brave stones."

Greth looked over at Ephrane with a bit of shock on his face. "How do you know about the braves?" he asked in a shaky voice that he obviously tried to keep calm.

Ephrane smirked, "I'm not stupid, I know that's what were going to gilhead for, the cancer stone that brought cloud to this world is there…"

Greth sighed heavily, this had not bin what he was expecting, someone that knew of the brave zodiac was some one that could be done without. Slowly he began to slide his dagger from its scabbard. The first few centimeters were out when the cold tip of steel rested on his left shoulder. Ephrane stared at his opposite blankly his hand holding his four-foot long blade with a calm confidence. "I was once a hokuten night, swine like you is easy to dispose of." Silence filled the room, mixing with a pool of tension. Another flash o lightning passed by the window followed by the mighty roar of thunder. Then suddenly a loud nock on the door drew both figures attention.

"Who's there?" they both said in unison.

"It's Fethrode, I bring word from Ednor, it is time."

Ephrane pulled his blade away from Greth and sheathed it with one quick motion. "It's about time…" he muttered. His navy eyes glowing with excitement. Greth slid his hand away from the hilt of his dagger and with slow steps made his way to answer the door. Thinking that maybe this kid they could do with.