In the last days of the Second Era, much
of the menfolk of Mithgar perished in the Great War. Thus, it became almost
practical for the womenfolk to take over. This lead to the matriarchal
society that has lived on through to the Third Era.
In the Third Era, where relative peace
fell upon Mithgar, began a series of events that would forever live in
the hearts and minds of the inhabitants of Jord and dwarven folk alike
as the Battle of Sleeth's Hoard. A battle that decimated both human and
dwarvenkind which only ended when the greatest drake of the time, Black
Kalgalath perished under the courage of two heroes.
This, then, is the tale of the journey
of the famed dwarven Chief Heero and the Jordian prince Quatre and how
they defeated the greatest dragon that ever lived upon Mithgar to change
the course of history.
***
Summer, Steppes Kingdom of Jord
"Ugh!"
A sword went flying into the air as
a royal behind kissed the sun-warmed grass of the forest.
Hai, ron!"
Aquamarine eyes danced in triumphant
amusement as the golden-haired princeling of Jord fairly danced with the
exhilaration of winning. Near his feet, a similar bundle of golden brightness
lay slumped in an indignant heap, huffing and puffing, a disbelieving look
on her face.
"I can't believe he did it to me again."
Iria muttered to herself while dusting
off the seat of her leather pants. It was humiliating to lose to her brother,
who for all intents and purposes shouldn't even be *holding* a weapon,
much less use one with such skill. And to think that *she* was the one
who taught him.
Her pride as Heir couldn't take it.
Her chin jutted out, forming an angle outlined in the afternoon sun as
she picked up her sword on the grassy ground.
"Let's see you try that again, bouya."
She crouched down in a guard stance and trained serious eyes on the boy
before her.
Quatre grinned at her and shrugged,
hefting his sword in the prescribed position to face his twin sister who
sported a crease between her eyes. The crease meant that Iria was irritated
at having lost to him yet again. Irritated wasn't good. It made a person
make mistakes he normally wouldn't if he kept calm. Not that Iria ever
noticed. His sister had always been a hothead.
This was going to be easier than the
first one. And rightly so, Quatre thought to himself, as he looked up at
the sun. It was nearing the time for his violin lessons. He would have
just enough time to wash and refresh himself before meeting Master Barton
for his lessons.
Clang!
Quatre blocked Iria's furious charge,
frowning at his sister. He swung the sword in an arc.
"Unfair, Iria! I was distracted."
Iria's eyebrows arched. "In the field
of battle, Quatre, there is no time to feel distracted."
Well, if Iria wanted to play serious,
then Quatre would play serious too. He calculated Iria's moves and waited
for an opening, fighting defensively against the aggressive girl.
There!
With fluid grace, Quatre's sword shot
out and in seconds, Iria's sword went flying. While Iria blinked in startled
surprise, Quatre pointed his weapon at her neck.
"Yield."
Iria's eyes narrowed into slits, her
face reddening. She was about to burst into her "That-was-unfair.-You-cheated."
Speech. But even before she could burst into her well-known rant, a clapping
sound issued from the side of the clearing they had chosen.
The two whirled around to see an exotic
man with narrow eyes leaning against one of the oak trees, sunlight highlighting
ebony hair tied back in a ponytail and an impassive face that showed no
emotion whatsoever.
"Master Chang!"
Wufei Chang was the only male in Jord
who had the privilege of using weapons. He was a renowned arms master from
a land far North whose proficiency with weapons was legendary. The Queen
herself had asked for his services.
Quatre's heart fell somewhere in the
vicinity of his foot. Of all the people who could have caught them, it
was their luck to have the weapons master be the one. If it had been anyone
else Quatre could have intimidated them into silence but it wasn't anyone.
It was Master Chang and no one has ever succeeded into bullying the Northern
man. He was a terrible taskmaster and strictly enforced all the rules.
Quatre knew for certain that he would be taken to task for this infraction.
He hung his head. Words of explanation
would be useless with this one. To explain more would only provoke the
arms master. That much Quatre knew.
Unfortunately, Iria didn't.
"M…Master Chang! I…we…that is…"
Wufei ignored Iria and focused on Quatre.
"Where did you learn such a move?"
"What?" Quatre looked up in a daze.
He had expected to be dragged back to the palace and placed before his
Queen mother for punishment. Why was the weapons master asking questions?
"Where did you learn such a move?"
Wufei's tone was impatient. "I have gathered that the Heir here has trained
you in the others but I have never taught her that particular move. Where
did you learn it?"
"I…"
How did he learn it? Quatre didn't
know. All he knew was that it felt like the most natural thing to do once
he saw Iria move. That was what he told Master Chang. And he saw surprise
momentarily flit through the exotic man's eyes.
Was the arms master ribbing him? Quatre
thought to himself warily.
In truth, Wufei wasn't ribbing the
princeling. He had witnessed the sparring session while passing through
the clearing on his way to his own personal training. At any time, he would
have ignored these kinds of practice sessions, having no patience for amateurs.
But he had heard a young male voice…the
young prince's voice, followed by his twin, the Heir, Iria. He knew then
that he had to stop them because males, with the exception of himself,
were not allowed to handle weapons. It wasn't exactly written down as law
it just was the commonly accepted notion. And if it had been anyone but
Prince Quatre, Wufei would have let it pass. The men in Mithgar needed
some backbone as it is. But it was the Prince and Wufei, for all his bravado
and courage, had enough sense not to anger the ruler of Jord.
He had to stop them. Besides, the Heir
(who was good enough by Wufei's standards) would probably make mincemeat
of the inexperienced slender boy if he didn't. With this conviction he
had stepped out into the clearing and was promptly astounded into silence.
Amazing!
The boy wasn't being beaten to a pulp.
In fact he had just disarmed his twin sister with a move that only a few
master swordsmen knew. Wufei was surprised and intrigued. All thoughts
of reprimands went out the window.
"What lead you to the conclusion that
it was the thing to do? Surely something alerted you."
Quatre brightened. At last someone
to talk to. He had always loved strategy and had studied different books
on it.
"Well, Iria always has this habit of
lowering her sword in an affected dramatic gesture before she attacks."
He cast a glance at the sputtering Iria apologetically. "Its just a little
flick of the wrist, Iria, but it leaves this opening that pne can take
advantage of."
Quatre looked back at the weapons master
and was astounded to see him smiling down at him. Heavens! Quatre almost
had a heart attack. He had never seen Wufei Chang smile…ever.
"You would have made a good warrior
and strategos."
Wufei Chang let the words slip out.
And was promptly rewarded by an exuberant shout.
"Yes! That is what I want to be, Master
Chang! A warrior, a male warrior, as of eld!"
"Quatre, boys *can't* be warriors."
Iria rolled her eyes. Quatre had told her this before.
"But why not? Especially when there
were so many centuries ago. Besides, I not only can match you. I always
win."
Iria protested. "That's because you
chea…"
"Silence."
Wufei glared at the Heir. Iria had
this penchant to blame her errors on the person she was fighting, especially
when she lost. It irked Wufei who had always felt that the Heir had been
spoiled.
"Haven't I taught you enough, Iria,
to realize when to admit your mistakes and learn from them. IF you do not
change this opinion you have, you will come to regret it later in the battlefield,
most likely while missing a vital body part. I would recommend you learn
from your brother here who displays a startling acumen for the finer art
of strategy."
Iria sulked in silence, glaring at
Quatre. The Heir wasn't really that bad, she was actually very good. But
her cockiness could lead to her downfall. It was Wufei's job to ensure
it didn't do so.
He turned to leave.
"M…Master Chang?"
He inclined his head at the young boy.
"Yes, Quatre?"
"Did you mean what you said back there?"
"Of course. I never say what I don't
mean."
"Then…will you teach me alongside Iria?"
Wufei shook his head. Much as he wanted
to teach the boy, he had to follow the dictates of the sovereign country.
He couldn't.
"As long as your Queen mother forbids
it, Quatre, I can do nothing. I am sorry."
Quatre's blue-green eyes wavered for
a second and then resolve took its place. "But if I get mother to approve
it, you will teach me, will you not, Master Chang?"
"Of course."
Quatre smiled and whipped around to
stride back to the castle, dragging a surprised Iria along, his voice carrying
in the air.
"Then ready yourself for a new student
in the next few days, Master Chang!"
As Wufei watched the pair of golden
heads disappear through the trees, he closed his eyes and used his other
"sight". What he saw made him smile broadly. This princeling surprised
him. He had always thought him to be of a more withdrawn sort, more scholar
than warrior but today had proved Wufei otherwise.
Maybe, just maybe, this prince would
be the one he had been sent to find and train. The one he had left his
beloved mountains for, journeying through the lands in order to fulfill
Adon's will.
"Meiran, love, mayhap this time, he
will be the one to rid us of Him once and for all."
TBC ^_~ Comments onegai?
Author's Notes:
I am not going to follow the nitty
gritty of the plotline of the book but will be extensively improvising…this
is because we've lost the book and I forgot most of the plot -_-; Its more
of building on the general concept. I am not doing this to insult the author
but for entertainment. I happen to like Dennis McKiernan. o.O
