Peace once again reigned over the Earth. Like always, it doesn't last. With the rebirth of a new Dragonlord, the illness of a great king, and the struggle of ones destiny, can five brave journeymen manage to save all of humanity? So continues the legends of the Dragon Warrior... In no way shape or form do I own this fantastic universe, although I do claim to own some of the characters in my story, which I have made up. Based within the settings of Dragon Warrior 1-3 for NES, and loosely based on the anime, I hope you all enjoy this little piece of fiction....

Dragon Warrior: Return of The Dragonlord

Chapter 1: Shadows on the Horizon
Shidar muttered silently to the dull flames, his milky-white eyes staring blindly into another place, far away from this one into another world. Ancient hands, wrinkled and weathered down to tough leather by the years moved in rhythm with the gently burning flames.
The kings aide shifted uncomfortably from his position from acrossed the fire. He had here for hours like this, watching the holy prophet as he muttered and waved his hands at the flames. And although it wasn't that hot in the small, Spartan hut, be began to feel a bit stuffy. Claustrophobia had always been a problem for him.
Slowly, Shidar lowered his hands and fell silent, his blind eyes closing for the first time in hours now that the aide had noticed.
"Does not the fires speak?" The aide questioned, shifting his weight again, the rustle of layers of heavy fabric loud to both their ears.
"The fire speaks." Shidar wheezed, raising a hand to slowly stroke his long, silver beard.
There was a moment of silence before the aide dared to urge on the old man. "What does it sayeth?"

"In ages of old,
A great quest did unfold.
A warrior of light
Against a Dragonlord of might.
Year upon years hath since passed,
And the light over darkness shall not last.
His dungeon of time has come to an end,
And lines of destiny will once again bend."

Confused, the aide stiffened at the solemn words. "Surely, you don't mean the Dragonlord of the legends of Erdick? That is nothing more that a mere story to frighten the child by his mother!"
Shidar's eyes suddenly snapped open as he sighed heavily. "From a fact, all legends are born, young one," he nearly spat out the last. "The words are not mine, but the voices of the Ancients who speak to my by the flames. Dost thou deny the truth of the Ancient Ones?"
"No, Great Prophet, I do not deny their words," the aide shook his head. "It is just, do the Ancients speak to thee of a way to halt the approaching darkness?"

"The legend of Erdrick is alive,
The armour the key to survive.
A Dragon Warrior, there is but one,
Erdrick's son of son's."

The aide waited for another moment in silence, waiting for the old man to continue. When he didn't, he spoke, "do they leave to thee a name?"
Shidar slowly closed his eyes, some invisible force killing the flames to a silent, dark halt. Only thin, wispy trails of what once was the Ancients fire now rose from the quiet ashes. "The Ancients fall silent. I bid thee farewell."
Knowing there was nothing else he could draw from the Prophet, the aide sighed. A cold wave of despair and impending doom washed over him as he left the tiny hut. It was not the news he was wanting to be bringing to the terminally ill King Linoln of Holarr.

The once majestic, now turned frail and old King Linoln gasped for air as the coughing that had suddenly racked his sick body seized. "The Prophet Shidar spoke of no name, no location?" He finally managed to say.
The lowered his head, disgraced by his failure. " 'Dragon Warrior there is but one, Erdrick's son of son's', that is all he spoke of, Sire."
"The bloodline of Erdrick the Warrior is all but unknown, not even hinted at in the legends. And 'twould be impossible to track the lineage of every citizen of Holarr. They themselves might not even know beyond their grandparents."
"If his descendent even lives in Holarr, sire," the aide pointed out, hopelessness settling on his narrow features. "For all that we may know, he could hail from any of the five known kingdoms."
Falling into another body-wracking coughing fit, King Linoln's face went red with strain, his already pale, hollow face reflecting pain with the efforts. "I swear by the Light, if I could...," he managed to choke out, struggling to rise from the nest of pillows.
"Sire! Do not exert thyself!" The aide grabbed the king's shoulders, trying to get him to lay back down.
" 'Tis a curse of God that I should lie here in my death bed, unable to do anything but watch as this approaching darkness swallows my kingdom." A tear slid down his hollowed features as he fell into a silent depression. "Why such a horrible fate on my beloved Holarr?" He muttered to no one.
Both men fell into silent prayer.
Neither noticed as the young woman hastily slipped from the shadows of the room and out the door.