¤ ¥ Final Memento ¥ ¤

Hello, my first fic, it's a short chapter, but it gets you in the mood of place, time, and characters. So, if you have any suggestions, please, reply. .

Disclaimer: I do not own any cities and or names that can be found in War Craft. The Characters Riku and Baharroth are of my own creation.

The final shadows of the night began to fade away as the crunching of snow became apparent small echoes in the barrens of the mountains. A slight chirping rang across the further on valleys of Azeroth and the soft yellow hue of a rising sun had not yet receded from hiding yet.

A cold winter morning's light broke out over the hills and tree line. The sudden light was warm on the weary travelers, worn from their long journey from home.

Is there such thing as a friend, one who will never leave your side? One who will stay through thick and thin, hardship and happiness, wealth... and pain. What hasn't been done here?

The blade made a clean slit and a soft pushing sound as it pressed through the snow and stood straight up, handle shaking in the light wind.

"For this late in the year, the temperature isn't as cold as it should be," Baharroth declared.

"Yeah, well, it's still cold for any place I've ever been!" Riku, said, unwrapping the scarf that covered his face, and he sheathed his blade into the ground like his friend. Riku was a young man about the age of sixteen, fairly built but not a person you would call "ripped". His skin was slightly dark from working outside in the fields of his small town near the outskirts of Azeroth. His hands were rough and callused from working with his father as an apprentice in the local Blacksmith. His hair came down barely below his eyes and was impossible to keep straight. As for his height, he bordered around six-foot-two.

"You know, we shouldn't be doing that, it dulls the blade." Baharroth proclaimed looking straight into the sky.

Baharroth was at least three inches shorter than Riku, and not nearly as built, because of different taste in profession. Riku, and well bodied male wanted to command his own army. Seeing the scars and pains of battle was a strange thing to want, but he did. Baharroth a year younger than Riku with slightly less tanned skin picked a different path to take. Baharroth was slightly skilled with a sword, but he preferred to be in the Class of the Silver Hand, an Arch mage of supreme power, like the ominous Paladin: Uther the Lightbringer.

Riku and Baharroth had met when they were young and around the age of eleven. They met in the town hall one day when they were of course seeking an education in their dream jobs, and Baharroth was having just a wee bit trouble. So... Riku being the kind hearted person he was, helped the poor kid by supplying him with the needed and filled out paperwork, none of which was test like material, but was needed to start his beginners tutoring. Ever since they've been friends deeper than anyone else in the village, but it's not like they were deep in the closet.

"Yeah, well it's not like any other blades can match ours. I mean come on, we almost gave our lives training back home so the council could grant them to us, not at all like the other lazy competitors."

"Yeah, that's right, but just because we have the best, doesn't mean we shouldn't take care of them like they aren't."

"Yeah, but if want to make it to coliseum east, we need to hurry," Riku said, rewrapping his cheeks with the rags he used as a scarf to cover his mouth. He rose and ripped his sword so quickly from the ground, the snow cracked apart for hundreds and meters. He heaved his sword up over his shoulder and released it, and automatically, it stayed there. He flexed his shoulders and mere veins sprang forth and became immense angel like wings. He kneeled down and jumped off the ground, quickly at first, but slowing down. While he did this, Baharroth stood beside him and stared up at the sky till his eyes gleamed a bright golden hue. Static bolts emitted against this disturbing template. The bolts extended upward and then began a downward descent and coiled themselves completely around his body. His feet slowly floated in a reverse polarity away from the melted ground he stood upon, and he followed his friend in the direction of the twin peaks near the coliseum of Lordaeron, all that was important was getting there before the preliminary rounds began. If they could get there then, there was nothing else stopping the beginning of the strongest two-man clan in the region, or, the world.

When the gigantic coliseum appeared over the horizon, they lowered their altitude low enough so that they hopped from hill to hill, so no one could identify their presence as demons. When close enough that they had fear of being seen, they walked the rest of the way to the city gates.

There was no guard attending the booth at the gate, all guards were on duty somewhere else it appeared. Riku Turned to Baharroth and gave him a menacing little grin. Baharroth grinned back tartly. Riku walked next to the gate and gave it a soft tap. It shone silver for less than a second, and then its glimmer disappeared. This was the only door in and out of the city, and Baharroth knew what Riku planned to do, and thought dreadfully about what he knew he had to do.

Riku nonchalantly stepped up towards the gate to the coliseum, and to the booth where it appeared the fighters who wanted to participate were to sign and draw lots. Riku stopped, not facing directly at the attendant, but facing the box of lots instead. Riku stared down at the box with a maleficent glare; a twitch of impatience came to his left eye. He thrust his hand barely into the box and not even a second past before he retracted his arm with a small stone tablet, which he immediately threw at the guard and continued to walk through to the under mesh.

"Hey, look at these two... kids. What do they think they're doing, competing with the big men? Look how cute they think they are with their little swords," a man wearing a warrior's helm snidely commented to Baharroth, leaning as close to the teen's face as he could get.

"Baharroth?" Riku questioned, beginning to stand, to aid his friend if needed.

"I do not need you help, Riku!" Baharroth whispered to his friend, as he stood up himself, and grabbed the handle of his blade. He closed his eyes, and then he engulfed a hideously large amount of oxygen, and then disappeared in front of their eyes. Riku sat down and began to laugh, "You shouldn't have encouraged him," he said sympathetically. He opened his eyes after a small chuckle to watch his friend at work. There were no footprints, no sounds of movement, just the sound of tearing metal. One by one the warrior's armor began to fall to the ground, each piece falling from an apparently clean cut from a blade. One by one, they all fell till each lay on the ground, till all that was left was the half helm. A small slit started at the back, then the whole helm turned a blood red, and sparks began to emit from the tear. Friction from some unseen force was beginning to over heat the helm. The man, stunned with disbelief, no screamed with agony. He ripped his helm from his head and tossed it now out of his burnt hands. A new slit appeared in the top of the helm, and a sword began to reappear. Slowly, Baharroth began to rematerialize, till all of himself was standing there once again, his sword through the top of the warrior's helm. His eyes were closed, and he took a deep breath, as if he'd been holding it the whole time.

"Your lucky you were too scared to move, or I could have made a brutal accident," Baharroth said, ripping his katana from the helm, and re- sheathing it. He walked silently next to Riku's spot on the bench, and made himself comfortable. The men starred at him in disbelief, and began to leave the room in a hurry. Riku leaned over to his friend.

"Oh come on, were here on a mission, we're just trying to get the King's... permission as someone would call it." Riku said, calming his friend down.

"Who would call it permission, it's more like black mail, BLACK MAIL!"

"Someone would call it permission, not us though, but it has to be done, or we'll lose more than our pride," Riku said, looking around the room to see if anyone was eavesdropping, "You know what happens if we don't do this just as well as I do, and I don't want to see that happen, and I'm damn sure you don't either, so just calm down and lets wait for an opportune moment." Riku slumped down off the bench and sat cross-legged on the ground, and began to draw in the sand he sat on.

"You always did like to act so much younger than your age didn't you?" Baharroth said, laughing at his childish friend.

"There's nothing wrong with it, it's much more fun than acting like an old fart, or at least, I think so, obviously you have your own opinions. So... let me be, I'm having fun!" Riku snapped at his friend, and then returning to his unfinished smile face he was drawing. Baharroth just starred at his friend with a cocked eyebrow, all he could do was laugh to himself.

Well, first chapter... in chapter two, the Assault, I'll try and write it as soon as I can.

Black Chaos-2015 Aka- Riku