Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Dragoon.

Chapter 1

The Scars of the Past

The days were always cold in the town of Neet, and the nights were even colder.
The snow would never melt from the winter and it piled up over the years. Smoke filled the air above the little town. Fire places were lit throughout the four seasons that did not vary much.

It was dead silent for there were no birds chirping, and it was always a dull green and gray, for there were no flowers, but only weather beaten evergreens covered in ageless snow.

The sun had not risen yet, but there was already activity in the small town of Neel. A father emerged from his small cottage followed by his five-year-old son. Both were carrying fishing poles for their daily breakfast.

The father wore a heavy coat with white rabbit fur lining the hood and wrists, while his son wore the same thing, but only a smaller version. They headed for a small pond on the outskirts of the town.

The father and son got up early each day so they could get a good spot. But sometimes he was lucky if he got a spot at all.

The snow was deeper than usual. It was the dead of winter and it caused the little boy to struggle. His strength was no match for the two-feet of snow, so his father made a makeshift path for him while they were walking along.

As they reached the pond, a gust of wind caused both the father and son's hoods to blow down, revealing their heads and faces.

The father had dark blond hair that had darkened over the years and pale blue eyes. His face was young, his age was no more than thirty.

His son very much resembled his father. His hair was lighter though, as well as his eyes.

The two walked on top of the pond and stopped at a circular cut that was made into the ice, but had frozen over.

The father reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a dull knife. It was ment for cutting the hide of animals, but it proved to have a different purpose in this case.

The man bent down and started cutting over the marks made from the day earlier. He had no problem, and the knife sliced through the ice like a knife through hot butter. Once the cutting was complete he pushed the circle of ice down causing ice cold water to flood over it.

The father didn't mind the temperature of the water for he had gotten used to it, and he turned it to its side, and pulled the heavy ice out.

The son remained silent. He was very shy, and rarely spoke even to his parents. There weren't many children his age in the town. The father and his wife had moved into the town six years ago, and had the child in Neet. No one in the town knew of the young father and his wife's past, nor did anyone care.

The man grabbed his fishing pole and gave his son a nod that granted that he could start fishing. He softly placed his fishing line into the water and looked up at his father with his big blue eyes. His father soon joined him as they both sat down on the cold ice to wait.

A half hour past and the son and father still waited. More and more men with their sons came onto there usual spots to fish.

The wind started picking up, and the son started shivering.

The father became worried, but his first intention was to catch at least one fish for his family.

"Papa, I'm cold." the boy trembled.

The father started to think if he should leave his spot to return his son home to the cottage, and then come back, but someone might help themselves to his well earned fishing spot. It then crossed his mind that his son could walk himself home. It was only a ten minute walk. That his child was walked many times. Surely he new his way back without guidance.

"Why don't you go back to your Mother?" the father concluded.

The boy gave his Father an unsure look, but then nodded his head.

"I'll bring back your pole, just go on ahead." the father said as he patted his son on the back.

The boy turned around and headed in the direction in which he came. His little feet taking little short steps at a time, like a waddling penguin. He stepped into the deep snow, and stayed on the path his father had made for him. But after walking for a little bit, it became harder to see it, since the wind drifted the snow.

He continued his normal way until he tripped over his own feet and fell flat into the snow. He lay there for a few seconds and then struggled to get up, and after a few attempts he did.

He brushed off the snow on his jacket with his little mittens made by his mother, and continued walking.

The church steeple could be seen in the woods, and that is when the little boy knew he was safe. He was able to make it home on his own.

As he walked into town, something was off though. The child saw reddish yellow flickering flames coming out of the church doors. The child was unsure of this and continued to his small house. People were running around in panic and a woman approached the boy in horror.

"Oh! Your back! Where is your Father?" the boy's Mother asked.

"Daddy's stwill at the pond." he replied.

His mother picked up her child and followed the path back to the pond.

The child looked back at the village that seemed to be engrossed by fire. The light reflected back on the child's eyes.

"What is happening Mommy?" the little boy asked in curiosity.

"Oh, a horrible omen this is! "his Mother answered." The Black Monster has come to bring wrath to our town."

"Black Mwonster?" the boy said.

The Mother finally reached the pond and explained to her husband that the town was in chaos.

The Father paused and noticed the thick smoke towering above.

The Mother nodded and hugged her husband. He then hugged his child and gave him back to his mother.

The Father started off back to the village with a shiny stone in his hand that puzzled the little boy.

The Mother kissed her son on the forehead. " I can fight too."

The boy looked up at his Mother. "Really?"

She nodded in approval and started running after her husband leaving the boy alone in the wilderness..

Well that's the first chapter. Please read and reveiw!

The second chapter will be up soon!