Kyrie Eleison

Author's Note: I tried to incorporate the Ragnarok manhwa by Myung-Jin Lee and the Ragnarok Online game itself into this story. I'm also trying to make it so that even people who aren't fans of Ragnarok and RO can understand it, but I think I'm failing! XD However, please enjoy. More chapters to come. (I don't own Ragnarok or Ragnarok Online, nor do I try to claim it as my own. However, I do own Juleus and the plot!)

Prontera was a big city. Prontera was a huge city. Prontera was a city filled with every kind of person you could ever imagine. Thieves, knights, priests, mages, crusaders, hunters – you name it, Prontera had it. The countless buildings, the countless streets, the countless alleyways, the countless merchants shouting out their merchandise made it a bustling center of activity.

He should have at least suspected something when he donned upon a crowd of people at the edge of the forest. He should have knew it was a sample of what was about to come. But he hadn't suspected anything. He had been walking alone in the Prontera fields with only his sword and a few apples to keep him company. He hadn't encountered a human in a long while, but he hadn't minded that much. He liked being alone. He liked listening to the sound of the animals. He was at peace without anyone else around him.

Then, out of no where, a mass of people appeared. Some were sitting, some were standing, but all of them were talking and laughing. Merchants sat among the crowds with their carts full of every kind of item, shouting out their goods. Although he was taken aback, the novice had laughed and said, "This is like some kind of convention!" How naïve.

He had managed to squeeze his way between the throngs of people a few moments after that. Sometimes, he would stop and wonder if he should strike up a conversation, but he was too shy. Before he left home, he had lived alone with his mother. When he was young, he had dreamed of becoming a fearless swordsman. A fearless swordsmen who slaughtered monsters like nothing. But he didn't even know how to carry a sword. All he knew was how to run to the market and how to bake a decent meal. The only monsters he ever saw were in books. Juleus grew up as a sheltered, unknowing little child with a lack of people skills.

Finally, after he passed a knight flirting with a beautiful dancer, the young novice found himself face to face with a giant stone wall. He had raised his head, trying to spot the top of the wall. It was there – way up there. As he wondered what could be behind it, a small frown passed his face. But he had gathered up his courage and walked through the doorway.

Then he found himself another "convention," only one that was fifty times bigger.

Juleus was already sixteen when he left his home. His mother was an old woman, who could barely even remember his name. When she passed away, he felt nothing. He didn't feel sad, or angry, or hurt, or scared. He simply felt nothing. This is what scared him most. He knew that he had loved the old lady, and he knew that deep down she loved him. So why wasn't he depressed about her passing away? He couldn't say.

Sometimes, he felt glad that she was gone, because then he could go out and be his own man. When he felt like this, he instantly reprimanded himself. He was appalled that he was happy his mother died. Finally, he had decided to travel to Izlude, where he could become a Swordsman.

Vaguely, as he stood in the south-most entrance to the giant city of Prontera, he wondered how he had come this far.

"Move it, kid!"

Juleus jumped out of the way; but in the wrong direction. He came crashing into a heavily armed Crusader. The Crusader was the highest of the high. From a novice, he had become a swordsman. From a swordsman, he had become a knight. From a knight, he had become a Crusader – a holy warrior pledged to serve God. This particular Crusader, however, looked like he was about ready to curse the lord.

"Sorry!" Juleus said, stumbling to his feet awkwardly.

With his heavy armor and shield almost as tall as him, the Crusader scowled at him. The armor around his shoulders dwarfed his head, and Juleus wondered how he could even stand to stand. However, being that this holy warrior of God seemed to stand five heads taller than him, Juleus decided against asking.

"Stupid novice," the Crusader mumbled, brushing back his short gray hair. "Out of my way, I have to get to the Central Palace." And without another word, the man stormed away.

Juleus watched him go, half-wondering what was the rush. At first, the Crusader was easy to pick out because he stood head and shoulder above mostly everybody else. But then, as the crowds shifted like a single giant mass, the Crusader was gone. But Juleus didn't mind that much. If all Crusaders were as intimidating as that one had been, he didn't want to meet any more!

He was about to turn around and go back to the forest, but something stopped him. For a brief moment, the ground beneath him, and the buildings around him all began to shake. Quickly, the thought of an earthquake flashed through his mind, but the vibration didn't seem like a natural one. None of the people around him seemed to even notice. Or if they did notice, they didn't even care. No one was looking around like he was.

So, frowning, and with some odd sense of duty, Juleus turned around and headed straight into the center of the city. The forest would always be there for him, filled with little monsters to kill. For now, he had to find out what had caused the disturbance. He was just passing an energetic young girl selling weapons when another rumble came through the city. For certain this time, Juleus knew it was no earthquake.

He was used to earthquakes. He knew earthquakes. This was no earthquake! The vibration seemed to be traveling; briefly passing under him as it headed for the outer walls of the city. It reminded him of when he and his friends used to toss pebbles into the nearby pond. The ripples traveled outward. The vibrations were traveling outward. That means that the disturbance he was searching for had to be a pebble, metaphorically speaking.

"What kind of pebble?" he asked out loud, gaining odd glances from the merchants around him.

Flushing embarrassedly, he lowered his head and continued heading towards the inner city. He passed an inn, a library, and a kind-looking woman selling milk. Since thirst was clawing at his throat, Juleus wanted to stop and buy a carton. Unfortunately, now was not the time. His curiosity would never let him rest if he didn't find out what was going on in the town square.

He was about to wish he never found out.

The closer he got into the city, the less people there seemed to be. That didn't seem right. He never did get a chance to think it over thoroughly, though, because lying in front of him was the dead body of a chimney sweeper. Juleus stopped in his tracks, staring at the dead man. A hat was on his head, with several holes going through it in a perfect line. It didn't take a genius to figure out these holes went straight through his head.

Juleus hesitated, but finally squatted to get a closer inspection. He was afraid of being too close to death, but now his curiosity would definitely never let him rest. Upon closer examination, Juleus thought it looked like some giant…thing had shoved four claws clear through the chimney sweeper's head. It had probably been instant death.

Another rumble and distant shouting caught Juleus's attention, snapping him back to the here and now. He stood up, watching a few people running and screaming in the direction he had come. They were trying to get away from what he wanted to see. Now he wanted to turn around and flee, too, but he didn't think he could. With a mind of their own, his legs began taking him closer and closer to the source of the explosions.

Juleus didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't this.

There, almost in the middle of the city, were two young men trying to kill each other. It wasn't your ordinary drunken brawl or gang fight. This was something beyond his comprehension. The ferocity of the attacks exchanged seemed so much deeper than something as trivial as guild rivalry. What looked to be a knight, with fiery red hair was barely dodging the other man's attacks.

The young novice's eyes darted from one fighter to the other, trying his hardest to pick out their movements. They were almost moving too fast for him to watch. As the two fighters stopped moving, apparently exchanging unpleasantries, Juleus finally got a better look at them.

Although Juleus had been a stayed home for most of his life, he had spent his time reading. He studied everything from arithmetic to language to world history. Now, the wheels in his brain turned and he recognized the manner of fighting of the darker haired contestant.

"An Assassin," he breathed in disbelief.

As he watched the two titans strike, miss, move, and strike again, his mind tried to figure everything out. Here stood before him two powerhouses whose strength he could only hope to reach. The Assassin, with cold, ruthless dark eyes and a morbid armor of bones continuously struck at the knight with – claws?

Yes, four giant claws made entirely out of sharpened bones. Juleus recognized these claws now. Juleus had never seen them before, but he knew what they were. They must have been the hand that had struck the chimney sweep to his untimely death.

The battle before him continued relentlessly. Juleus began to sympathize with the knight, who seemed sorely overmatched in this fight. No matter how hard the knight struck, no matter how swift or well-aimed, the Assassin nimbly moved out of the blade's way. If the knight struck high, the Assassin ducked down. When the knight struck low, the Assassin easily jumped out of the way.

Juleus watched as the poor knight was struck again and again. As the two came charging towards each other, he feared the end. What could have started a fight as heated as this? There were too many gaps in his knowledge for him to even guess. He didn't even know their names. So all Juleus could do was watch as the knight took a blow to his stomach, blood falling from his mouth. Still, with a battered body, the knight stood again, this time with the tiniest of smiles. The seemingly indestructible Assassin had managed to be cut on his arm by the knight's blade.

Juleus wanted to start jumping up and down in victory. Finally, the knight had been able to get a blow in. He wanted to sing and shout, in happiness, but now was not the time. Before he could even pick out what words to shout in encouragement, the Assassin had healed himself. The cut was no more.

The brave knight, now closer to where Juleus was watching, was in earshot. "This does not bode well at all," he said quietly. His green shirt was tearing, and his armor was scuffed. All of his body seemed to be bruised.

"Don't give up," Juleus wanted to tell him. But it was not to be. He couldn't get his tongue to work in time before he felt another rumble below him. Being so close to the "pebble," the shaking earth almost made him fall. As he looked up he watched as what looked like a gale of energy come his way.

He didn't stand a chance.

His feet were swept from under him, and he landed hard on his back. For a brief moment, Juleus watched the blue sky above him. Then it was filled with tan brick. Broken tan brick. Falling broken tan brick that was about to smash him.

The last thing that Juleus heard before the end was that underdog of a knight screaming "No!!!"