Chapter One: A Hero's Training

"Nick, it's time to get up!"

Groggily awakening and opening his eyes slowly, Nick woke up to the voice of his mother. Suddenly, a sense of rush came over the young boy and he jumped out of bed quickly. He almost fell over because he got light-headed from standing up too fast, but he stumbled into the shower without toppling over.

"Nick, honey, hurry up! You're late again!"

"Jesus Christ, mother! I think I realize that!"

It was true of course. Nick washed his face and wondered how she could not be aware of the rush that he was in this morning. It was his big day, the start of his training as a Mars Adept. The day he'd been waiting for all his life, and his mother could not conceive the fact that he was in an incredible state of urgency.

He finished up in the bathroom and walked out to put on his training clothes. He grabbed the sword that was hand-forged by his own father and blessed by a powerful shaman, then imbued with pure Mars psyenergy before it was finally passed to him. It was not only a sword, but a seemingly perfect sword. It unleashed a blast of flame so powerful, it has been said that a dragon's soul exists inside the sword. Nick's father, upon hearing this, named the summon Hades.

The sword itself, however, was still unnamed. Nick's father wanted to leave that to Nick. Tragically, he would never live to see the day that his son named the great blade. He died the very day that he passed the sword down to his son.

He was going to Imil on a business trip, but he never did return from that fateful trip. Some say that he was attacked by wild animals along the way. Others thought that he ran into another Adept. Whatever the case, nobody has any evidence to support their claims.He was never seen again.

As Nick walked outside, he saw his mentor. Rane, as he was called, was the greatest Mars adept in recent history. As a mere child, he met up with a great foe that taught him the lesson that led to his pursuit of power. Malebole, the villagers later named the beast, was a 300-foot long beast. Legend tells that this beast had risen once before, but was driven back by several Mercury Adepts. The monster was said to rise straight up from the depths of Hell, causing it to be constantly covered in flame.

Rane had been walking through the forests that fateful day, and he saw what he thought was a simple forest fire. But as he went closer, he realized that this was no forest fire. The dragon stood up to its full height, a tactic used to ward off attackers of all sizes. But Rane went closer still, in an attempt to pass the dragon without it noticing. But the dragon reared back its head, then brought it down with flames spewing from its mouth. Rane was caught in the inferno and found himself in his first battle. Needless to say, he promptly fell to the dragon's might. The villagers of Vale soon realized that there was a great ruckus just outside the town, but by the time they got to Rane, the dragon was mysteriously gone.

Rane had not started class. He was waiting on a certain student

" Oh, Nick! Great of you to join us! Would you like us to wait for you tomorrow if you're late too? Well, too bad. I'm only going easy on you because this is your first day of Adept training. Now class, we will begin by sparring. Show me your skills so that I know what we need to work on. Two rules: Absolutely, positively no killing and no psyenergy. I want to see only your skills with a sword. Now, pair up with a partner and begin!"

Nick knew exactly who he wanted to spar with. His neighbor and long-time rival, Trent, was a bit more skilled than Nick. And he was cocky to boot. As Nick approached, Trent knew what he wanted, and merely smirked in response.

Nick unsheathed the unnamed blade and Trent took out his Iron Sword. Trent advanced and swung the sword at Nick, who quickly ducked. Nick hopped up and smacked Trent with the broad side of his sword. Trent seemed amazed at his opponent's newfound quickness.

"It would seem that the sloth is wearing a jetpack. You've gotten much speedier, my friend!"

"Trent, shut the fuck up and fight!"

As Nick uttered those words, he was caught off guard by Trent's sudden move. He moved his sword above his head and brought it down onto Nick's. Making one last move as the warm blood ran into his eyes, Nick thrust his blade into Trent's crotch and twisted it.

"Bastard…you never should have tried…to kill me…"

And with those words, Nick lost consciousness.

"Nick, wake up! Please wake up!"

"Ugh…what happened? My head hurts…"

"Nick, Trent tried to kill you today. You, in turn, stabbed his…umm…equipment. You promptly twisted your sword, which ripped his balls clean off. Needless to say, neither of you were very happy. Trent has been kicked out of the training program, and, as an added bonus, I'm not going to chastise you for your questionable methods of self-defense!"

"Um…thanks, I guess."

"You'll be fine. We can resume your training later. You'll be sparring with me, since all of the other students have partners and have passed that first stage. We start again in five weeks, just to be cautious. You had a decently big cut in your head, and we don't want to risk you having brain damage or anything like it. See you later, Nick."

Five long weeks passed. Nick made great progress in his simple rehab procedures, and his doctors let him go on time. He looked at his blade and had finally decided on a name. The name reflected its power: Flametongue. A fitting name for the blade, Nick thought, simply because it expelled the purest of fire.

While Nick was traveling to the Training Grounds just a few feet out of town, he wondered why Trent had tried to kill him. Maybe the guy was just crazy or something. If he was crazy, then Nick didn't want to see him again for obvious reasons.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, you little shit! I'm going to cut off every last fucking appendage that you have and shove them all up your fucking ass, you god damn son of a bitch!"

"Oh, hey Trent…h-how have you been? B-been doing g-good?"

Nick realized how uneasy he sounded. He tried to swallow, but he suddenly couldn't. He knew he could beat Trent, but he feared that he was overconfident at best. But then it hit him like a rock. Trent was playing mind games, yelling to intimidate him. Trent was conquering his own fears with anger. So Nick did too.

Nick whipped out the Flametongue and charged. Running full speed with the blade in hand, he jumped swung wildly in his rage. Trent caught the blade in his hands.

"What the Hell?"

"It's been five weeks Nick. That's a long time. I found a source of great power and took from it. In acquiring new skills, I also acquired new knowledge. The source was an evil one apparently, as I know terrible secrets that will allow me to harness more power. You'll never defeat me, Nick."

Trent punched Nick hard in the mouth. Nick flew across the forest trail and slammed against a tree. It had the same effect as a decent-size boulder, snapping the tree on impact. Nick was astounded at the force of the hit. He sat, dumbfounded, for a few seconds before Trent was upon him.

Swift as a cheetah, Trent lifted his hand and hit Nick in the face. Again, Nick was sent sailing through the air.

"It's impossible Nick. Just give up, will you?"

"But I'm not even doing anything!"

"Well, you should give up nonetheless. It's for your own good, Nick."

"Fuck off, Trent."

"Ha! It's your funeral."

Trent's focus shifted. He started to use psyenergy instead of brute force. He picked up the tree that Nick had knocked over and lobbed it at Nick with psyenergy. It seemed to be a modified form of Carry. The tree flew towards Nick at incredible speed.

"Oh shit!"

Nick quickly shifted to a spread-eagle position on the ground and the tree whizzed over his head. He jumped up and jammed his blade into Trent's shin.

"It's…impossible! You can't…I won't let you! No, you must not defeat me! This wound will be your downfall!"

"Trent, that doesn't make any sense. If I hurt you, it doesn't hurt me."

"Well, you see, it's a simple question of physics. If I lift my leg and ram the blade's hilt into your nuts, I can hop backward and pull the aforementioned blade out of my leg and use it to slice off your head."

"Um…"

"Exactly!"

"Well, since I know what you're going to do now, isn't that whole plan useless?"

"Oh yeah. Damn, I always do that!"

Nick used Trent's disappointment to surprise him. He stomped on his blade, which was stuck in Trent's leg. The blade made a vertical slice up Trent's leg, causing him to immediately collapse. Blood poured from the wound, turning everything around the leg dark red.

"I…will never give in to you, Nick. This…won't be the last time…"

And with that, Trent was gone. Nick was left wondering what Trent would have said. Not like it mattered now, since Trent was clearly dead, but Nick couldn't put the thought out of his mind that Trent would be back someday.