A/N:
Hey guys.
I realized that I was taking quite a while to get chapter one to Teen Titans: Tentia up, so I decided to write a small one-shot that tells the basic background of what's going on about two and a half years prior to chapter one of Tentia. It doesn't reveal anything too major, as I am saving those juicy details for the big stories like Tentia, Accordial, Exiss, so on and so on. BUT, there should be enough in here for you hungry little story-hunters/fans of mine/the story out there to feast off of until I get chapter one to Tentia up.

I am writing this at one in the morning (my time) because I can't sleep due to stress about school and work. So it won't be long, but it will be long enough.

Now, without further ado, enjoy.

Also, please R&R (read and review).

—

Zladex

"Is the boy ready yet?" the demon asked impatiently.

"Soon, my master. I am still trying to decide what it is we are going to do with him now." Slade had been pacing his quarters for hours, thinking of what to do with the boy that they now had in custody. They had worked so hard on this plan. It was one that they believed to be flawless, foolproof, completely incapable of being thwarted in any way possible. All they needed was the boy... and now they had him.

"Well you had better decide quickly. Time is of the essence, and we need him trained and out on the enemies as soon as possible."

"Yes, master," Slade said in his calm, cool tone whilst concealing his frustration at the subject.

"Go now. Bring the boy to me, trained and ready in two week's time," the demon demanded.

"Two weeks? Master, I don't think that I can have him ready that quickly! It will take in the least-"

"SILENCE!" exclaimed the now furious demon. "You WILL have him ready in the following two weeks, or you will have a PRICE on your HEAD!"

Slade hung his head in defeat. "Yes, master."

"Good. Now get out of my chamber."

Slade walked out of the dark chamber belonging to the almighty demon with his head held high, even though he was feeling like complete shit. He was expected to do something that he knew would be almost impossible. He knew that if he were going to have the boy ready for deployment in two week's time Slade would have to train the boy from dusk till dawn, rise to fall, morning to evening.

Slade didn't want to push the boy too hard. After all, he wasn't heartless. He at least wanted the boy to have time to rest. But alas, if he wanted to fulfill the master's wish, he had to train the boy from dusk till dawn, starting now. He pondered how he was going to manage training the boy correctly in time as he approached the boy's quarters.

"Get up," Slade said forcefully as he threw open the large, metal door. The quarters were like that of a solitary confinement jail cell, essentially because that's what it was. Two-foot-thick stone walls with a thick steel door to match. There was a single-person bed with thin sheets covering it, and on it lay a boy about fourteen years in age.

The boy stood up quickly and assumed military-position stance in front of his captor, Slade. He wore mere rags for clothes, yet he had perfect posture.

"State your name," Slade demanded, to which the boy looked at him, confusion riddled across his face. Slade was quickly angered by the boy's expression. "Do not question, just do it!"

"Stark Wilson!" the boy shouted, almost cringing at the sound of his name.

"WRONG!" Slade exclaimed angrily, back handing the boy. "I ask again, what is your name?"

The boy looked up from the floor, were he had immediately turned to when he felt the sharp sting shoot through his face and sighed as he said "I have no name. I am the Accordial."

"Good. Now do you know what we will be doing today?"

"I assume we will be training, sir?"

Slade squinted menacingly at the Accordial. "Close enough. Come with me."

~{=}~

Slade led the Accordial into a large, stone room, filled with people that were chained to the walls, hanging by their wrists, or on the floor. All of whom were bloody masses that the Accordial assumed to be dead.

"For today and the following two weeks you will be trained to kill." Slade opened. "By nightfall of the the last day of this fortnight, you will be a master of murder, or you will pay the consequences."

"Forgive my interruption, but haven't I already learned how to kill?" the Accordial asked, highly confused.

"No. You have learned the technique of which to kill, but you have not actually learned how to take the life of another," Slade said menacingly. "Your first kill is always the hardest. But through my training, you will learn to cope with it and feel no remorse."

"But sir-"

"Quiet. You will speak only when asked a question. For instance, how many people do you see before you?"

The Accordial quickly counted the sum of lives before him. "Seventy-two," he said.

"Good. Starting today you will kill each and every one of them."

The boy looked at Slade in horror. "But what've they done? Why should I have to be the one to kill them?"

Slade quickly turned to the boy, leaning down to eye level with him, which wasn't that much, as the boy was only about a foot shorter than Slade, and said "Because it is your destiny, boy. Now, pick your first victim."

The boy looked around the room and saw people of many different types. They were large, thin, tall, short, black, white, male, female and many other things but there was only one person that caught the eye of the Accordial. They were an average-sized white man who desperately needed a shave. He looked to be in his mid to late forties, even though he had a beard that grew to his stomach.

"That one," the boy said reluctantly, pointing to the man with the beard.

Slade turned to look at the victim and grinned. "Alright. Report to the maze chamber and we will begin your first day of training. Good luck," he said as he walked towards the man.

The Accordial watched as Slade stopped in front of the man and turned to look at the boy. Slade gave a slight wave of his hand, motioning for the boy to leave the chamber, to which he complied, making his way to the maze chamber to begin his training.

~{=}~

That was it. He was finally done. The Accordial had finally killed his seventy-second victim using the skills he was taught over the years prior to the current day. Though he was mortified, he was happy that his training was over. He turned to Slade and smiled, showing that he was finished with his work, even though on the inside he was screaming in anger, frustration, and pain.

Slade nodded at him and said "Good work. You can return to your quarters now."

"Yes, sir," the Accordial said, bowing to Slade. He started walking away from his handiwork, not looking back for fear of being stricken with the mighty hand of Slade, who taught him to never look back. As soon as be rounded the corner he took of running, wanting only to be in his quarters for the rest of his life as punishment for his sins.

He stayed in his room, laying face-down on his bed for the rest of the night until he heard his door swing open with the creak of old metal.

"You leave first thing in the morning for your first mission, so be up by six," he heard Slade say. Suddenly he felt something land on his back, as if it was tossed to him. "Take this with you. If you really need it." With that, his door was closed, returning his room to complete and utter silence.

The Accordial turned to see what had landed on his back, only to find a thin, brown book. It had a black Gaelic cross embroidered on it's cover, with delicate designs of lines running like vines all over the rest of the cover, front and back. He opened it, only to find that it was empty. A journal? He just killed seventy-two people and was about to be sent around the world to kill countless more and Slade thought it wise to give him a journal? What a petty and childish idea. No one in the position of the Accordial should stoop to such petty things.

He made his first entry that night.

He sat down at the metallic desk in the corner of his quarters and sighed, grabbing the small quill he had fashioned from a hawk he had killed during his bow training. He sat for a moment, deciding if it were a good idea to be pouring his thoughts and ideas into this journal, and even if it was, what was he going to write? How would he be able to describe the horrors of what he had seen and done and the ones that were sure to come?

After minutes on end and what seemed to be an eternity, the Accordial dipped his quill into the vial of ink near the corner of his desk and began to write.

To anyone brave enough to read this...

—

A/N:
So what'd you all think? Eh? EH? Juicy enough for ya? I sure hope so because chapter one of Teen Titans: Tentia still won't be up for probably another few days because of school and work getting in the way of writing and all, so...

ANYWHOOSERS, please R&R and continue to stay tuned to me for more updates! Also check out my Enjin for even MOAR updates on stories! (I post there a lot more than I do anywhere else)

Until next time,
VaticoreX