Chapter 1: Him that Would Walk Alone
I could feel it flowing through me, the power that generations of the bloodline of Maxim had used to defeat their ultimate enemies... The Sinistrals. When their resurrection was eminent, those of the blood of Maxim and Selan, Guy, and Artea would have the deep power in their veins awaken. These first victors over the dark powers of the would-be gods somehow passed on their strongest power on to their descendants... The power of the Spiritual Force and the Wave. In the black times of a rendition, the power of humanity's spirit would come to them to be used as a weapon against their most powerful foes, but for me, something was wrong. My lineage contained none of the blood of the great heroes from times of old, but the elders of the village had found the Spiritual Force awakening in me, and so I was forced into training in the harsh ways of combat, for the fate of the world could some day rest upon my shoulders.
"No no no! It's not good enough to block all the time, you must take command of the offensive or you will never win a battle!" his arms teacher told him, as he battered at my meager defenses, it was all I could do to keep him from braining me with his heavy training sword. "You must attack or be worn down until you are defeated!"
I did not respond, and I concentrated on keeping the blunt training sword of my instructor from striking me. This had lasted for a long time, almost twenty minutes, until the instructor brought his weapon arcing around and struck me a hard rap on the wrist, followed by a blow to the stomach. I groaned, feeling the areas that I knew, from previous training sessions, would be bruises by the next day, and dropping my sword. I was mostly useless with it.
"You should be able to do better than that... You should be able to defeat such as I with ease in a contest of arms, as the spirit of humanity should aid you in each stroke."
"Why do you expect this of me? My blood is not of the three great Lineages, so why should their powers come to me?"
"The elders have felt it... I have watched you and you have felt it. Everyone can feel it around them. The Spiritual Force is part of us all, but only a select few can use it. Now pick up your sword and we shall fight again."
"No! I'm no good at swordplay, and I refuse to let a foolish belief in a past long gone dominate my future! It's not right for me to be subservient to a was!."
His trainer looked skeptical, "What's not right?"
"I don't want to live in the shadow of the past, to have destiny dominate my life because of a power I should not have! I will find my own way to be strong, I will not rely on some misplaced energy from the past!"
"You? Who won't even try ? Hah," the trainer shook his head slowly. "Will wonders never cease... You refuse to try but expect to be strong."
"I said with this sword! I will not waste time training with a weapon that feels awkward and useless in my hands! I have no skill for swordplay."
"Some day you may have to take up the Dual Blade and lead others into combat against the Sinestrals themselves... What then?"
"I am not of Maxim's blood! That weapon will come not to me."
"The Spiritual Force does, though. You must train."
"Not like this! I won't do it like this!" and, with tears prickling the side of my eyes, I turn and ran, hurrying away into the forest.
I ran onwards, stumbling over protruding roots and crashing through low branches. I lunged onwards, over small streams and natural ditches, until I fell, exhausted, onto a soft patch of moss. After resting for a time, panting for air, I stood, looking around at the clearing, and noting a large trapezoidal stone pedestal with a sword standing straight up and down in its center, the hilt raised to a little under his chest level.
"How quaint, a sword in a stone," I grumbled, not amused, or impressed.
I approached it, glaring at it. Whoever had put it here obviously thought they were very clever, because anyone who managed to pull it out would think they were special, or an ordained hero, or something silly like that. It would be cruel to have someone rush to his death in a moronic quest to save the world after drawing this shiny weapon, so I decided to remove it now. I stepped up to the pedestal, and pulled on the sword, which, as I had expected, pulled easily out of the stone. As it came out there was a sudden flash of light behind me. I turned, startled. A man, a little taller than myself stood there, with wild blue hair, and in full armor.
"So, someone has come to claim that relic of mine at last... Glad to see it."
I stared at the man, "Who are you?"
"No one, anymore... Just an outcast of the Spiritual Force waiting for someone to claim my legacy once more."
"This sword? Bah! I am not the one that a sword of power would seek... I have no skills in swordplay."
The man chuckled, "Nor would I expect you to, really. I always wondered why it appeared as a sword time and time again, but look, it finally returned to its purer nature."
I looked at the sword he had been holding in his hand, but it was a sword no longer. Now it was a large, glistening axe, adorned with runes. It looked to be massive and heavy, but he lifted it easily with one hand.
"What sorcery is this?" I cried aloud.
"Not sorcery, the... Well it is hard to explain. Suffice to say, it seems my power has returned to itself, use it well, young man, perhaps we will discuss it some time in future, but my contact with you touched by the Spiritual Force is short."
"The Spiritual Force again? I tire of this! I want no destiny, I want no power, I want no part of the Spiritual Force! Why does it persist in tormenting my every step?"
"Hmm... In my youth I had some of its aid, and helped defeat many powerful foes, but there were others that drew its power more truly, and I was but a fragment of the strength granted to them, as are most humans just used as fragments of the Spiritual Force, and elves the tool with which to guide it."
"I wish it would leave me alone..."
"Do you truly? You would walk without the feel of human companionship? Without the touch of warmth shared by all those that live and breathe? You would walk alone in a land where all else is part of a singular whole? Is that truly what you wish?"
"Yes... Yes it is! The warmth turns to chill in my bones, and companions to chains! I want to be free from this prison! The past, the long distant past has no right to rule over my future. The Sinestrals rise again and again, I feel, because those with the Spiritual Force raise it again and again. The two are connected by more than mere portence."
The man looked grim, "If you are so determined, I will tell you the way, but it will make you like they ar... No, no it will not, for even they are bound as Four, or rather, three now, though you may speak some truth. If such desolate solitude is what you seek, go to the great temple in the west, there you will find an order of monks who can show you a way to become one with the Spiritual Force, or shatter its bonds forever. I should warn you, though, that nothing shatters the bonds of fate."
My eyes blazed with determination and delight. "I care not! Freedom beings with a single step, and I would have it no matter the cost, and I tell you, the Spiritual Force is the power that drives fate, without it I will be free."
"So you have spoken. Some day you will look back on this time and weep that you ever spoke those words, for you will find that you have sacrificed much to gain no true freedom at all."
"You're wrong. Just you wait, things will change, without the Spiritual Force, I will make them change."
I could feel it flowing through me, the power that generations of the bloodline of Maxim had used to defeat their ultimate enemies... The Sinistrals. When their resurrection was eminent, those of the blood of Maxim and Selan, Guy, and Artea would have the deep power in their veins awaken. These first victors over the dark powers of the would-be gods somehow passed on their strongest power on to their descendants... The power of the Spiritual Force and the Wave. In the black times of a rendition, the power of humanity's spirit would come to them to be used as a weapon against their most powerful foes, but for me, something was wrong. My lineage contained none of the blood of the great heroes from times of old, but the elders of the village had found the Spiritual Force awakening in me, and so I was forced into training in the harsh ways of combat, for the fate of the world could some day rest upon my shoulders.
"No no no! It's not good enough to block all the time, you must take command of the offensive or you will never win a battle!" his arms teacher told him, as he battered at my meager defenses, it was all I could do to keep him from braining me with his heavy training sword. "You must attack or be worn down until you are defeated!"
I did not respond, and I concentrated on keeping the blunt training sword of my instructor from striking me. This had lasted for a long time, almost twenty minutes, until the instructor brought his weapon arcing around and struck me a hard rap on the wrist, followed by a blow to the stomach. I groaned, feeling the areas that I knew, from previous training sessions, would be bruises by the next day, and dropping my sword. I was mostly useless with it.
"You should be able to do better than that... You should be able to defeat such as I with ease in a contest of arms, as the spirit of humanity should aid you in each stroke."
"Why do you expect this of me? My blood is not of the three great Lineages, so why should their powers come to me?"
"The elders have felt it... I have watched you and you have felt it. Everyone can feel it around them. The Spiritual Force is part of us all, but only a select few can use it. Now pick up your sword and we shall fight again."
"No! I'm no good at swordplay, and I refuse to let a foolish belief in a past long gone dominate my future! It's not right for me to be subservient to a was!."
His trainer looked skeptical, "What's not right?"
"I don't want to live in the shadow of the past, to have destiny dominate my life because of a power I should not have! I will find my own way to be strong, I will not rely on some misplaced energy from the past!"
"You? Who won't even try ? Hah," the trainer shook his head slowly. "Will wonders never cease... You refuse to try but expect to be strong."
"I said with this sword! I will not waste time training with a weapon that feels awkward and useless in my hands! I have no skill for swordplay."
"Some day you may have to take up the Dual Blade and lead others into combat against the Sinestrals themselves... What then?"
"I am not of Maxim's blood! That weapon will come not to me."
"The Spiritual Force does, though. You must train."
"Not like this! I won't do it like this!" and, with tears prickling the side of my eyes, I turn and ran, hurrying away into the forest.
I ran onwards, stumbling over protruding roots and crashing through low branches. I lunged onwards, over small streams and natural ditches, until I fell, exhausted, onto a soft patch of moss. After resting for a time, panting for air, I stood, looking around at the clearing, and noting a large trapezoidal stone pedestal with a sword standing straight up and down in its center, the hilt raised to a little under his chest level.
"How quaint, a sword in a stone," I grumbled, not amused, or impressed.
I approached it, glaring at it. Whoever had put it here obviously thought they were very clever, because anyone who managed to pull it out would think they were special, or an ordained hero, or something silly like that. It would be cruel to have someone rush to his death in a moronic quest to save the world after drawing this shiny weapon, so I decided to remove it now. I stepped up to the pedestal, and pulled on the sword, which, as I had expected, pulled easily out of the stone. As it came out there was a sudden flash of light behind me. I turned, startled. A man, a little taller than myself stood there, with wild blue hair, and in full armor.
"So, someone has come to claim that relic of mine at last... Glad to see it."
I stared at the man, "Who are you?"
"No one, anymore... Just an outcast of the Spiritual Force waiting for someone to claim my legacy once more."
"This sword? Bah! I am not the one that a sword of power would seek... I have no skills in swordplay."
The man chuckled, "Nor would I expect you to, really. I always wondered why it appeared as a sword time and time again, but look, it finally returned to its purer nature."
I looked at the sword he had been holding in his hand, but it was a sword no longer. Now it was a large, glistening axe, adorned with runes. It looked to be massive and heavy, but he lifted it easily with one hand.
"What sorcery is this?" I cried aloud.
"Not sorcery, the... Well it is hard to explain. Suffice to say, it seems my power has returned to itself, use it well, young man, perhaps we will discuss it some time in future, but my contact with you touched by the Spiritual Force is short."
"The Spiritual Force again? I tire of this! I want no destiny, I want no power, I want no part of the Spiritual Force! Why does it persist in tormenting my every step?"
"Hmm... In my youth I had some of its aid, and helped defeat many powerful foes, but there were others that drew its power more truly, and I was but a fragment of the strength granted to them, as are most humans just used as fragments of the Spiritual Force, and elves the tool with which to guide it."
"I wish it would leave me alone..."
"Do you truly? You would walk without the feel of human companionship? Without the touch of warmth shared by all those that live and breathe? You would walk alone in a land where all else is part of a singular whole? Is that truly what you wish?"
"Yes... Yes it is! The warmth turns to chill in my bones, and companions to chains! I want to be free from this prison! The past, the long distant past has no right to rule over my future. The Sinestrals rise again and again, I feel, because those with the Spiritual Force raise it again and again. The two are connected by more than mere portence."
The man looked grim, "If you are so determined, I will tell you the way, but it will make you like they ar... No, no it will not, for even they are bound as Four, or rather, three now, though you may speak some truth. If such desolate solitude is what you seek, go to the great temple in the west, there you will find an order of monks who can show you a way to become one with the Spiritual Force, or shatter its bonds forever. I should warn you, though, that nothing shatters the bonds of fate."
My eyes blazed with determination and delight. "I care not! Freedom beings with a single step, and I would have it no matter the cost, and I tell you, the Spiritual Force is the power that drives fate, without it I will be free."
"So you have spoken. Some day you will look back on this time and weep that you ever spoke those words, for you will find that you have sacrificed much to gain no true freedom at all."
"You're wrong. Just you wait, things will change, without the Spiritual Force, I will make them change."