Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned within this chapter, or any of the following chapters, within this novel. They are the sole property of Sony. The plot has had some minor alterations by my own intentions in an attempt to make it suit the novelistic purpose and nothing more.

Authors note: As said in the description; this is not me trying to be imaginative. I would just love to write this excellent story into a novelistic form. I do not claim to be best suited, but I shall try. I also plan to stage other projects from this at a later date.
Authors note to reviewers: Be as critical as you like, in fact, be more so. This is my first time doing this and I would like to request as much help as you can.

The Serdian War
Return to Seles

The words stood up at me from the page like storm clouds on a blue summer sky: "Chances of war more likely". After five years pursuing my own ideals it seemed my call was for my monarchy once more, as though the headlines laid in wait for my return. Shifting my self off of the large boulder I was sat on, my aching legs moaned in pain. The thought of the miles still left till I return to my hometown was off putting to say the least: Nonetheless I settled down the newspaper, donned my sword and gathered together what few worldly possessions I owned. My, both physically and mentally, tiresome journey was showing its signs in bones that felt sixty years ahead of their time. A small glimmer of light caught my attention, just out of the corner of my eye. There, at the base of a tree, a shallow puddle was stirring. Ripples traversing the surface, faster and faster now; I started to feel the very ground beneath my feet begin to shake. Jolting upright I could now hear heavy footsteps, fast, heavy foot steps. Drawing my sword across my body, I waited to embrace what ever was coming down the earthen track. I could hear chain rustling now, my grip tightened. Through the over growth appeared a long line of men galloping on unfamiliar beasts, faces like rhinos, but longer bodies, with plate-like hides. Hurrying past me, I struggled to retain my ground; my eyes followed the leader of the pack onwards through the growth.

A thundering sound echoed behind me, the din of a large beast. Snapping around, my sword clenched tightly once more, one of the beasts was reared on it's back legs another by its side, its rider pointing his lance straight as my torso, his voice barely audible over the sound of the beast crashing down.

He repeated "Are you a mercenary of Basil?" thrusting the lance dangerously close to my chest, instinctively my sword drew across the pole-arm, cutting of the large spear head and tracing towards the attackers hands. I felt a blunt force crash into my triceps, dropping my sword momentarily. The second rider straddled of off his steed and walked towards me, his beast's nostrils pillowing steam as it snorted.

"You Basil scum! How dare you draw a sword against the Imperial Sandora?" He spoke clearly, with pride, with hatred.

Panting for breath, my arm regaining strength I began to groan "What about the truce?"

The solider opened his mouth to speak, which was all I needed. Grabbing my sword at the hilt I slammed the counter weight into his stomach and leaped to my feet; the man staggered backwards, a look of sheer horror in his eyes; the ground began to shake once more. Breathlessly straddling aboard his mount he charged it of into the bush, his companions beasts mindlessly followed. I turned to yell after them, "Cowards!" I saw it. A dragon lurched through the forest, its mandibles dripping with venom. Blood stopped coursing through my veins and I stood still, momentarily paralyzed. Sense returned and I turned and ran. Trees falling not far behind in my wake; the dragon was in pursuit, the trees being mere annoyances than obstacles to its massive body. Gaining on me, closer and closer, I was seized my unimaginable strength and launched of the side of the mud track.

A new accomplice

The face that stared back into my eyes was not the gaze of death. The midnight blue eyes, like deceitful books, led me in so far to her then stopped me abruptly. Who ever this mysterious woman was though, I was indebted with my life. I parted my lips to thank her but before I could speak, a gloved hand smothered my mouth. Her lips whispered "Be quiet if you want to live" and I realized the dragon was still nearby. Hearing it rapping its tusks against a rugged cliff I snapped sharply back into the real world. After what felt like a life time, the beast gave in and the trembling lessened as the beast returned from where it came. My head slammed into the ground. I winced in pain and looked up to see my savior fully clad in dark leather with a rapier dangling by her side. Realizing I had had my head resting on her knee and it had fallen when she moved upright I embraced it and stood up.

"What was that?" I asked, utterly baffled at the situation. Who was she? Why had she saved me? How did she find me?

"The green Dragon Feyrbrand" the women responded. "It's funny though. That village could've easily been destroyed without the power of a Dragon."

"What village?" I pressed "Seles? Seles's my hometown!" Rage pumped out of my heart and coursed through my veins, I ran as fast as I could to the village.

"There won't be much left by now..." she sighed as I ran of.

Crossing the last hill over looking Seles, I saw the burning waste lying ahead of me. The church tower, as if claimed by Satan himself, was gushing flames from every applicable crevice. As I ran towards my grief stricken town, there before me, the bell tower collapsed to the side, its bell shattering from the fall; the ringing resonating among the low set valley Seles was built in, shaking it to its foundations. Wind rushing through my hair, I accelerated down the hill, crossing the last threshold of trees. The remains of the wooden perimeter fence was no challenge for me, Having leapt over it one thousand times as a boy, comprehending what lay in wait around the corner however, was not so easy to grasp.

"What more do you want from me?" and old man gasped on the ground. "Haven't you had enough killing already?"

"Shut it old man!" one of the soldiers bellowed.

His companion added "Unless you want to be next on the list to die!" and proceeded to kick the man that lay on the ground.

"Yes, maybe it'll be enough if we kill you!" the first of the two added, drawing his sword.

I couldn't stand to watch this! I roared "Enough bloodshed of the innocent!" lunging at the guards. Blood spilt from the soldier who had kicked the old man, my sword had grazed his stomach; Drawing back again, I swung down with tremendous force into the mans spaulders, the metal brushing against his neck, My sword continued, I heard a crunch and his body fell lifeless to the ground instantly. The remaining soldier staggered back, mouth wide of the sheer scale of my sword craft stumbled slightly, and turned to run, His lighter chain mail ringing as he fled. My sword plummeted into the ground and I scooped up the aged man into my arms.

"Dart..." He wheezed "It's Shana... They took her... You must... only you can save her..." Blood began to pour out of his mouth, as I lifted him to his feet: He oozed blood from a deep gash across his chest. "Dart... Go on..." he muttered, collapsing into his own pool of blood after his last words. His body was rigid to the touch, I traced a crucifix on the air above him; He shouldn't of had to pay for the sins of our two rivalry monarchies. Over the crackling of the flames, I heard another familiar voice.

"Dart!" he called to me. "Dart? Is that really you? Dart!" his voice sounded strong, much more youthful than he last remembered.

"Plos!" Dart returned "Where are you Plos?"

An old accomplice

Standing erect, I searched for the source of the voice. There, resting up right against the remains of his house wall was Plos; Propped upright with his shirt ripped open. "The imbeciles were convinced this was enough to kill me! It shames to me to admit it, but I'm too old to fight, I was better of playing bed so at least one of us could live on." Plos spoke profoundly "We were overpowered as we stood there and then Dart. If only you'd come back sooner... Enough digressing Dart, Move this blasted rubble of me!"

I hadn't even noticed the large rock crushing the mans leg.

"Yeah, Sandoras came in the night." Plos told Dart as he scooped down to remove the rock. "Idiots didn't have to take away our spark of hope though. Our only church: crushing my leg under it in the process. Imbeciles"

A slight smile flashed on my face. "You haven't changed a bit in my five years of travel Plos" he joked as he scooped down to pick up Plos.

"Stubborn old men stick to there plots!" Plos returned, wincing as I helped him to his feet. "Dart, I do however need to be serious now. It's about Shana. It seems she was their primary purpose to invade." he told, his face now much less joking. "You must go save her Dart. I do not know where they have taken her, but I'm sure ...." he continued, but was interrupted.

"I'll make him talk!" I said, gesturing towards a Commander bearing plate armor.

The Commander, over hearing Dart, ran towards him even in his heavy armor.

"What have you done to Shana?" I pushed, aggressively. "Why did you take her?"
"I just followed the orders, no questions asked." The Commander sniggered. "She must be receiving the courtesies of Hellena prison by now." he said calmly, a slight grin crossing his face at my clear rage towards him.

"Hellena? She's just a girl you brutes! She has no significance in this war." He said, pausing, adding "Let her go!" much more passionately.

"It's not my call... Kiddo." The iron clad Commander pushed on, jeering. "If it was, she'd be dead already!"

My eyes flared with rage; "If I were you I'd give up the fight and spare myself the pain" Dart proclaimed, hacking in with his sword. The Commander parried.

"Besting a private is no reason to build an ego!" The Commander lunged for me, his sword chop falling just short as I leapt back. Our swords began to clash, each competent fighters they held their ground. The Commander feinted to Dart's head drawing his sword upwards to parry but followed towards Darts torso instead, forcing him to leap back onto his back. "A trained Mercenary I see" the Commander gasped; raising a bottle to his lips. "On the Sandora side we know how to utilize what is available to us!" he spoke before drinking the liquid. Suddenly the mans cuts healed, and his muscles contracted. "You Basils call it 'cheating'" he added, "Us Sandoras just think you don't know how to play the game". He threw a satchel of dust from his pocket at me, flame erupted around me, and the heat burned him. He was in a nightmare, he couldn't comprehend the pain. He just wanted to let the flames consume him. Life wasn't worth living anymore.

A sharp chill re awoke him; Plos had doused him with a bucket of water. The Commander changed targets and charged for Plos, this momentary lack of attention was all I needed. I saw an unarmored spot, the rear of the commander's knees and swung his sword into it, sending the Commander sliding across the floor. Kicking of the Commanders helmet, Dart looked down at the man with resent and muttered "Tell your master, He's next" and drove his sword through the mans eyes, deep into his skull. The death rattle of the commander was nothing new. Dart had killed many a time before on the battle field, even as a young boy.

Retracting his sword from the mans skull Plos looked at him astounded. "You know where she is Dart. You know what you must do." Plos spoke, as though a father, to me. "There must surely be enough of us alive to rebuild the village. You must go." He added, as he limped of to scout to see if any more people had survived the tragedy of these events.