The Legend of Dragoon: Black Resurrection

Chapter 3

"His name is Haven your highness."

"Haven you say?" King Carlo II replied as he sat in the garden of "The Shana Home" in the bustling town of Seles.

"Sire, imagine how this would look politically," one of his green-cloaked advisors mentioned in a hushed tone.

Coolly, King Carlo II answered, "Yes Magistrate, but either way I'm still the king of Serdio, and I am sure my closest advisors and followers would understand that I need a successor for when I pass on."

"Your highness, I understand, but the people…"

"The people will what? Revolt? Protest?" Carlo interrupted brushing away his light brown hair which he had inherited from his ancestors. "Two-hundred years ago, a man of non-royal blood saved one of our past kings, and his name is revered as not only a hero, but a community, a city named 'Lavitz'."

Carlo arose from the bench which he was seated, and strolled through the garden to a bush of red roses with the magistrate following closely behind. "Roland," Carlo kneeled to the ground and glanced at his magistrate, his closest advisor, "many consider the rose to be only a flower, but I think of it as a whole lot more than what it may seem. If anything, it is a true comparison to the structure of human life."

"All the normal eye can see is the rose and the beauty in which it embodies. But no one understands the intricate details of growing a flower such as this. Think of the soil as the working class of peasants that allow us to have the luxuries that we have today. Without the proper soil in the first place, the seeds of our past would have never had the opportunity to blossom into the beautiful roses that you and I see before us."

Carlo rose upright and motioned toward the beauty the garden had to offer. Not only were there roses, there were bright daisies accompanied by rather large daffodils and tulips. Warm sunflowers brought more life to the garden, and many cherry trees blossomed in a sea of pink rising slightly higher than the heads of the king and his advisor, Roland. Roland was sick of listening to Carlo's useless babble on the romantics of life, it would mean nothing in a world such as this.

The matron of the orphanage approached Carlo with an exhausted smile, "I don't mean to interrupt your highness," she curtsied with as much grace as she had to offer, "but are you still interested in adopting Master Haven?"

Carlo chuckled, "You may skip the pleasantries Madame Lavonte."

"Yes sir," Madame Lavonte replied blushing at the cheeks. "I hope I'm not speaking out of line here, but I wanna' offer my deepest condolences to you and the royal family your highness."

"How dare y-"

"Your condolences are much appreciated Madame Lavonte," Carlo interrupted, using his right hand to silence Roland. It was still a hurtful memory that Carlo begged heartily to forget. His loving wife had died 6 months prior during childbirth, and sadly, the infant was stillborn. Still grieving the death of his wife and firstborn child, he decided it was impossible for him to ever marry again, but yet the halls of Indels Castle remained too silent for his tastes, and it was time for a change.

So he began traveling to multiple orphanages all over the continent of Endiness, and to no avail, none seemed worthy of providing an heir to the throne of Serdio. Then he met Haven, an eight-year-old boy who was as compassionate as he was intelligent. Carlo had knew that he had found his future heir when the child up and told the King of Serdio to not step on the roses when most would shrug and continue with their daily business. His grades were above average, and though he was mostly skin and bones, Carlo knew for a fact that one day Haven would be able to protect the kingdom from both enemies foreign and domestic.

"May I have a conversation with my future son privately before I adopt him? I don't think him and I have had a real conversation since we have met." Madame Lavonte curtsied once again and left the garden heading toward the wooden doors of the orphanage. Shortly she appeared with the dark-brown haired ragged of a boy by the name of Haven.

"Please leave us Roland, I will meet you back at the carriage soon," Carlo ordered. Roland bowed his way out of the garden, rolling his eyes disrespectfully once out of Carlo's sight. "Would you like to have a seat my child?"

"Are you here to adopt me sir?" Haven asked as he pierced a hole through Carlo's soul with his light hazel eyes. "I hate to be disrespectful, but I'd rather know now rather than getting my hopes up."

Carlo laughed heartily and rubbed the child's dark brown hair, "Straight and to the point, I like that in a young man. But I have a simple question young master, what is the most important part of this rose?"

Haven bit his finger and stared at the rose that Carlo was clearly pointing at. Haven sighed and answered, "What's more important is not the rose itself, but the nutrients and the water which allows it to grow in the first place your highness."

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Eighteen years later he was known as the greatest scythe-master in all of Endiness given the title "Archangel of Haven". King Carlo II believed that a great king needed to have a militaristic prowess about him which allowed him to not rule with an iron fist, but compassion for his fellow countrymen. The Knights of Lavitz were King Carlo II's greatest war asset, and had been for nearly 180 years. The city in which they originated was known as a stronghold back during the great Serdian War 200 years prior. King Albert named the once-known Fort Hoax "Lavitz" after his greatest knight, and closest friend.

Even though Lavitz had blossomed into a beautiful and diverse city, it still housed the training grounds of Serdio's most elite and prestigious knighthood. Many of the Serdian knights were recommended to train in Lavitz, but very few were selected as righteous candidates. At first Haven was frowned upon by his fellow brothers in arms for being royalty, but after seeing his skill, their qualms ceased to exist as if they had no right to complain in the first place. He had worked hard like every other man to get where he was, ten years of constant training and mental strain had seemed to have pulled off.

The green stone glistened in the sunlight as it dangled from Haven's neck, the royal heirloom given to every future Serdian king. Everytime he placed his hand on it, it would shine bright, adding more mysteries and question to what the stone actually was. Rising up from his solid mattress, he stepped over to his window overlooking the bustling city of Lavitz. The historical presence of the former Hoax remained untouched in the city's heart. Above that floated the wingly colony of Atmos, suspended as if untouched by the wind.

He found it strange how wingly and human culture could combine together. The magical prowess of the winglies allowed for numerous and enormous technological advances which in a way made humans seem inferior. Haven never considered the winglies a threat, but greatly understood how they dominated all other creatures a many millennia ago. Until 200 years ago they were believed by the human populace to be extinct. Suddenly they began integrating into human culture thanks to their ambassador, an old friend of King Albert's named Meru Agla.

Haven knew of three different classes of winglies: the honorable, modern, and radical. The honorable class were known to be friendly to other species, but remained in their own settlements, shut out from the rest of the world. The modern class integrated into mixed race society, and even added their magical knowledge to better the world around them. Lastly were the radical winglies, easily mistaken as the honorable class, but instead thrived on the ideals that they were superior to all living things, and deserved to rule like gods of the past.

His thoughts continued to wander as he left the elegantly carved, concreted barracks. They were different from the housing of normal soldiers and knights, instead each member of the Knighthood of Lavitz had their own accommodations', spacious rooms where they could have privacy (something he was never used to even during his childhood years). King Carlo II, Haven's adoptive father had come to the thriving city to overlook its' security, and the battle strategy against a rising revolutionary group located in the northern Serdio mountains.

Compared to the rest of the world, he was one man, walking in a crowd of nameless faces and shadowed facades. Intelligent he was, and his battle skills were considered artwork by many of his colleagues, but he never understood how one man could lead so many people. Decisions would be made, and with every decision there would always be disagreements and consequences. Haven never saw himself as a politician, at times he didn't consider himself a knight, a soldier even; instead he had no clue who or what he was. As a child he felt abandoned and lonesome, but was surprised when he was adopted by the King of Serdio.

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Haven's leaf-green cloak, and long dark-brown hair waved in the cool breeze as he found himself walking into a shop of grand and magical decour. The various, mysterious objects gleamed off his steel plate mail stained with specks of green, and a large portrait of a lion roaring marking him as a Knight of Lavitz.

"Is there an issue with your scythe Haven?" a female wingly peeped from across the room. She stood from her seat behind the counter and gracefully walked over to Haven, her long platinum hair glistening in the neon lights of the magical items surrounding her. The clothes she wore were fine in every intricate detail, but yet subtle to her small frame, it was normal for many winglies to dress this way. Multiple jewels and trinkets alike dangled from her body, from the necklace draped around her neck and the piercings in her ears, to the multiple jeweled hairpins glistening amongst her platinum locks. Sometimes Haven found himself in this store for no reason at all.

"Siri," Haven breathed taking in the air of the beauty that surrounded this woman. He unstrapped the black pole on his back, and instantly a beam of green energy slowly emerged from the tip forming the shape of a blade. "I have to leave here soon my lady, but I always find myself in here."

Siri giggled, removed her jeweled hairpins, and pulled her hair into a ponytail, "Well, while you're in here, I might as well look at it and make some adjustments. I mean it is my design." She snatched away Haven's scythe and slung it over her shoulder, "Just follow me back here, we can talk."

He followed her to the back of the store to the more unorganized back room. Siri set the device on her workbench, and turned to face the man who had followed her. Yellowish-orange eyes of this wingly intimidated and mystified him as they always had. Both sets of lips locked in a short embrace which felt like an eternity. She floated off the ground as her transparent wings escaped the confines of her clothing. Upon separating she slowly flitted back to her feet, her wings disappearing into thin air. Her cheek rested on his chest as her arms found their way around his neck. Cursed he was to find love from something of not his own species; he wrapped his arms around her hips and guided her to the floor.