Chapter 3
Three weeks before current events…
Soria was walking through a bustling merchant town, little shops full of knickknacks set up everywhere, a constant roar of voices bartering. He was able to hide his black wings by wearing a large cloak, so it was easy to blend in. Well, it would have been easy, save that he left his sword hanging loosely behind his back. Merchants were in awe of its sheer size, and when they got closer, they noticed the beautiful violet color it radiated.
"How much do you want for it?" they asked.
"Its not for sale"
"Come on, I'll give you a good deal, how does a hundred thousand thrufs sound?"
"I said its not for sale"
One after one, he turned down the merchants. There was no way he would sell his sword, his partner.
After awhile, Soria grew tired of the constant pleading. "Stop bothering me!" he yelled. The crowd grew silent. But it wasn't because he yelled, his cloak had fallen off, leaving his black wings visible to the world. Seeing an angel out of Asgard was a rare sight unless it was in the Holy Army, but seeing an angel with black wings was unheard of.
"What's wrong with him?"
"Did he paint his wings?"
"No, they don't look like they've been painted."
Soria knew that the crowd might think that he was a demon and would start a riot, so he teleported out of the town.
Oddly, there was someone waiting for him at the town gate. The stranger was garbed in a white robe with a white hood.
"Hello Soria."
"Um, hi, how do you know my name?"
"I know many things about you, including how you got those wings and that sword," the stranger then touched Soria's head, "You now know the way to Fenerail, meet me there in the deepest room in the darkest cave, it is called the Mouth of Hell, I will answer all of your questions there." And with that, the stranger made a strange sound with his mouth, almost like a whistle. Soon, a giant white dragon appeared in the far sky. It must have been at least five hundred feet tall, with a wingspan of fifteen hundred feet. It's claws were long and sharp enough to cut through steel, but the strangest part of the dragon was it's eyes. They were black, except the pupil, which was white. It was almost like a reverse image of a normal eye, but without an iris. The stranger touched his forehead and teleported onto the head of the dragon. Although it wasn't like Soria's teleport, where he moved faster than the speed of light to his destination instantly, the stranger seemed to warp the space around him and move himself.
"We will meet again" and with that, the dragon took flight and the stranger disappeared.
