EDIT (SEPTEMBER 05)(MoR): This story was originally posted on my joint account with Cyan Light, but we took it down a while ago (long story). Anyway, Cyan Light has gone on to do his own things in life, so all this material he has given to me, and he insisted that I put it up. I must admit, I hung on to it for a while, before finally deciding to re-post it. I went through, and edited it a little bit and fixed a few typos (probably still haven't got 'em all, though).
Also, I'd like to correct a couple of errors made in the previous post. It does contain a lot of inspiration from a few different places, which we forgetfully didn't mention. Put it down to stupidity. It draws inspiration from a variety of sources, Zelda, Star Wars, Wheel of Time (just a tad), and um…. I forget now, but yeah, you get the idea. So anyway, neither me, nor Cyan Light own anything here (ever wonder why it's called fanfiction?). If we've been inspired by something, hey, who isn't? If we borrowed from something else in the fanfiction genre, I'll try to remember to cite it. If I don't, forgive me, I'm stupid and forgetful most times. Just remind me.
I should point out my my parter-in-crime, Cyan Light, was the real author of this chapter (and the next one if I get around to posting it), so when you review this, you're really reviewing him, not me. But I did do the editing and stuff, and helped come up with the storyline and such, so... yeah.
Anyway, I left all CL's original Author's Notes (mine too, because I thought, why not?) and am adding extra ones here to point things out.
Wow, I've rambled quite a bit long here, haven't I? Well, anyway, don't let me hold you up, read and enjoy.
Author's Note (Cyan Light)-
This is a story that I have looked forward to writing for a very long time. This story began awhile back when I was thinking about this game. My imagination began to work and this story came into being. It took quite awhile to fine tune the story; however, it has now reached a point where I can begin writing the story.
While imagining this story it occurred to me that the readers would be unable to understand it without having a knowledge of the history of Weyard. Therefore, with the help of the incredibly talented Master of Reality, (who will also be helping write this novel) we began writing the history of Weyard. Thus, The Chronicles of Weyard were written. While writing the chronicles MoR and myself sought to create an accurate history, while still making it vague enough to get others imaginations working. We did this in hopes that other authors who read this work, would be able to build off our creation and create their own.
I would highly suggest that all viewers of this story read The Chronicles of Weyard in order to obtain background knowledge of the story. This is in order to help you better understand the novel. This will be long novel, due to the fact that it will be the complete story of the Hero of Ages, rather than a summary like The Chronicles of Weyard.
I hope that you, the reader, will enjoy this story of my imagination, as much as I enjoyed writing it. So, without further delay, the prologue of The Shadow Wars
Author's Note (Master of Reality)-
Hey all! As Cyan Light said, I'm working together with him on this to make an excellent novel set before the GS games (Which you don't get too many of). I've often thought of doing one myself, but never had any good, solid storylines to work on. Now that Cyan Light has come to me with this idea, I'm proud to work on it, and really like what we've come up with.
On this project, I'm taking the role of co-author/editor/beta reader. This is going to be a great story, I can assure you, as the tale of the war that sealed away Alchemy unfolds, but not entirely as you expect. Certain details of that war were never told as they were forgotten in legends and tales of old. A powerful evil stirs in Weyard once more… you get the idea.
Also, I've posted a small one-shot set long before this (during events referred to in here) that sort of serves as almost a prologue to this whole fic. It's called "The Battle of Mount Aleph", read it if you haven't already, if you want, to get a deeper understanding of the epic we are creating.
Just so you know, this starts off, obviously, at the end of the Lost Age (still being called the Golden Age in this fic), obviously, a few years before the war starts. You already know when in Weyard's history it ends, but do you know how? Read and enjoy, and also review!
The Shadow Wars
Prologue
"A Storm of Fire"
It is a flame of one's fury,
that burns deep within
Its flame is eternal
that will burn for all time
It gives you a strength you've never known before
Its power can topple kingdoms, mountains, and even gods
But beware; this might comes at a price
The loss of one's soul, which can never be regained
When its wrath has passed
It still remains
It never goes away
It never forgets
So know, before you start down this path
there is no turning around, no going back
An ancient riddle, found inscribed within the Temple of Sol
-Translated from the old language
"Cecil!" A voice called out from the deep darkness of Cecil's mind. The voice cut into the recesses of his being, commanding his attention.
"Open your eyes Cecil." The voice that called out to him held a tone of authority and Cecil founded himself reacting to the command almost instantaneously.
Cecil opened his eyes, the sudden onslaught of light that flooded his vision caused his arm to jerk up and cover his eyes quickly. With his arm protecting his eyes from the light, his vision soon adapted to the lighted room. Cecil began to take in his surroundings.
Cecil found himself lying in the middle of a large room lying on a small platform at its center. The chamber was massive. It had a high domed ceiling and the walls and floor were made of large beautiful blocks of black marble. The platform he was standing on was carved of magnificent stone. Intricate runes were etched on its surface. At each of the four corners of the platform stood an elegant statue of a warrior.
Each statue was beautifully crafted, carefully carved out stone. They were all created in the image of a different warrior. They were amazingly detailed. Each wore a suit of beautiful golden armor that completely covered their body. On the belts, hung a gloriously crafted scabbard laced with glimmering jewels that stretched across the breadth of the sheath. The four warriors held in their hands, which were stretched out in front of them as if an offering, four glowing stones. The source of the light in the room, emanated from the stones held in their hands.
The stones were each unique and beautiful in their own way. Although they all were clear black stones, their center held a mist of colors. One of the stones center was a swirling mist of green and gold that merged together at its center. The next was red and black; another was blue and white, while the last was black and purple. Each of the four stones had the same unique trait of the swirling mists of glowing light and colors at their center. The more Cecil stared at the stones the faster the images would move. He found himself drawn to their center, and was captivated by them.
Cecil tore his attention from the stones and stood up from the platform and stretched. He stepped of the central platform and began walking around the chamber. Suddenly, the commanding voice from his mind, sounded from the room.
"Welcome, Cecil." The voice called, its words echoing across the room, reverberating off the walls.
The stones held by the four champions flashed to life as the voice faded from around the room. Large beams of light erupted from the stones and converged in the center of the platform. The light swirled together and began to take form. As the form finished taking shape, the light emanating from the stones stopped. The image of light in the center of the platform, now completed, flashed brilliantly and suddenly exploded.
The blast from the light, slammed into Cecil, knocking him off his feet and sent him careening into the wall. He hit the ground hard. Cecil slowly pulled himself up from the floor and shook his head, trying to shake away the black dots floating around in his vision. As his eyes regained focus, he saw that where the image of light had been there now stood a tall muscular man. The man wore large heavy armor that completely covered his torso. On his belt hung a long and glorious sheath, which must have held an excellent blade. The man stared at the boy for a few moments sizing him up.
Cecil was a young boy no older than ten years old. He had dark black hair that was cut short. His eyes were deep brown and held much love and compassion. He was small for his age but definitely had a distinguished muscle tone. He wore a small white tunic and wore baggy tan pants.
The man looked at the small boy with a twinkle in his eyes. After a few moments he spoke.
"My name is Haran. I have come here to tell you an incredible tale of the past, that I am hoping will help affect the future." He looked at the boy across the room who was staring at him with confusion.
"My tale is rather long, young one, so that it would be more comfortable, please sit down." Haran, with a little difficulty, sat down on the platform. Cecil looked questionably at Haran from across for a few moments before walking towards the platform. Cecil stepped up on the platform and sat down cautiously in front of the man. The man stared into Cecil's eyes as if peering into his soul. His eyes seemed to lose focus and he stared blankly into the distance, his mind lost in thought. Haran began slowly telling his tale.
Long ago, when the world of Weyard was young and mankind fist began to flourish a great evil invaded the land. The Dark Lord Aginorin, feeling the power of the elemental stars emanating from within the Golden Realm, gathered his vast demonic armies and began an invasion of Weyard. With this army of blood thirsty demons at his side Aginorin swept across the land, annihilating the unsuspecting people of Weyard.
The Grand Army of the land, put up a magnificent fight, but they were unable to stop the onslaught of Aginorin's hoards of demons. Although these incredible soldiers fought with all of their might, they were utterly defeated. Destruction covered the land; it seemed that the Day of Judgment had come.
The last remnants of mankind fled to their last stronghold, Mount Aleph. Mount Aleph was one of the most holy places in all the land. It was said by the people that it was where Sol had ascended into Aetherius. The last remaining warriors of mankind stood bravely upon Mount Aleph, facing Aginorin's demonic Legions of Darkness with defiance. The people, believing that this was the end, began praying to the Lord Sol to save them from utter destruction.
It was in this darkest hour, the final battle for Weyard began. It looked as if all hope was lost. But suddenly, their prayers were answered. Sol had heard their cries and sent to aid them mighty warriors. These champions, with their power over the elements, were able to defeat Aginorin's demons. Within a year the land had been cleansed from the vile scourge of darkness that had infested it.
These warriors were the Alsh'man Lucid, Adept Defenders of the Light, who would later be called Adepts, returned to Mount Aleph and there they found the Wise One, who had first guided mankind, and taught them. The Wise One told the people that they would be given the power of Alchemy to help craft the land. He then gave to the four leaders of the Adepts the elemental stars and told them to use the power within them to help rebuild the land. With that, the Wise One, the original teacher of mankind, returned to Aetherius.
The Golden Age, the current age, began at this time. In this Age mankind truly flourished. With the help of the Adepts, the people constructed four elemental lighthouses that would help harness the powers of Alchemy so they could be used throughout the land. After the igniting of the lighthouses, the power they released converged at the peak of Mount Aleph and created, The Golden Sun. This object was sacred, for with it any man could have his wishes answered.
The Golden Sun therefore was protected by the most elite Adepts, who later become the Order of Sol, and the Golden Sun would become their symbol. These warriors built upon Mount Aleph a mighty temple that would help guard the Golden Sun, and it was inside it that the Golden Sun rested.
It was also during this time the great monuments and towers were constructed. The mighty cities of the elemental clans were also built. Alluvion, the city of Earth. Anemos, the city of Wind. Lemuria, the city of Water. And Infernos, the city of Fire. These cities were home to the four elemental clans, each residing in a city of their respective element. Although these were beautiful cities and were the largest around, none of them compared to the city built at the base of Mount Aleph, Solaria, the grandest city of the Golden Age.
This city was magnificent. It was a city where everyone was accepted, no matter if you were an Adept or not. The city had large and magnificent buildings, massive monuments, and beautiful palaces. The city was the symbol of the Golden Age, and within this city rested the greatest object of the age, the Golden Sun. The Golden Sun resided within the Temple of Sol, and was constantly guarded by the Order of Sol.
These cities have continued to grow and prosper throughout the age. But that age is coming to an end. A great darkness once again is creeping across the land, and already it can be felt. Yet again, evil has begun to creep into the hearts of men, and I fear that it will be not long until Weyard is invaded again.
The man stopped speaking and stared at Cecil. He closed his eyes and a single tear rolled down his face. The man opened his eyes again and continued speaking.
"It is quite possible that the evil could win this time." Haran looked at Cecil again, a look of pity in his eyes.
"There is a prophecy", began Haran again, "about this coming evil, and a hero, who shall decide the fate of Weyard." Haran again closed his eyes, and began telling the prophecy.
A time of peace, that comes to an end
an evil of the past, shall rise again
A cloak of darkness, that covers the land
the end of Weyard, could be at hand
But even in this shadow, and time of fear
A hero of the age, the chosen one, shall appear
The hero will enter, the place of Golden Light
And be given an object, to pierce the night
In the hero's hands, will rest mankind's fate
And I pray that it shall not be too late
For the time will come, when the end is near
It shall be the moment, the time to fear
When the darkness is sealed, by the light
or the light shall be forever covered, by the night
At the conclusion of the prophecy, the stones held by the statues, flared to life again, as confirming something. Haran looked at the boy and began to say something, but stopped, thinking better of it. Haran suddenly tilted his head as if listening to something; worry etched itself into his face. He looked at the boy again and began to speak.
"Cecil, my time with you must be cut short, I'm afraid. But listen to my words and take them to heart. There is much I wanted to tell you, but already the evil one has felt my presence here." Haran stopped speaking and pulled himself to his feet. He reached down and helped Cecil to his as well before beginning again.
"You will face many hardships in the coming years Cecil, but do not let that deter you. This task has been appointed to you." Cecil interrupted Haran with a question.
"What task have I been appointed?" He asked.
"Have you not figured it out yet?" Haran replied quickly. "You will need to get smarter. You are the Hero of Ages, Cecil, the one who was prophesied about many years ago. You will be the one to decide the fate of Weyard."
Cecil felt dazed. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. I must be dreaming he thought.
"You are dreaming lad, but what has been told to you tonight is true, now listen to me Cecil. Soon you will feel that all hope is lost, but do not despair, a teacher will come to you, who will show you many things. You will learn much from him but will one day have to depart on your own." Haran seemed to lose his concentration, but continued speaking.
"From that point on, the decisions you make will ultimately decide Weyard's fate, choose wisely, Cecil." With that final statement Haran stopped speaking.
Haran stepped into the center of the platform and raised his arms. The stones began emanating a golden light that began to swirl around him. Soon the light completely covered his body and then slowly began to fade away. When the light had completely disappeared, Haran was gone. Cecil stood open mouthed. Suddenly he heard Haran's voice in his mind again.
"We will meet again Cecil, may Sol watch over you and protected you from evil." With that final statement the glowing stones held by the statues slowly began to go out and in a few moments, Cecil was covered in darkness.
x
Cecil opened his eyes and found himself lying in his dimly lit room. He sat up quickly and scanned the room.
The room was lightly furnished. A desk stood against the wall next to his bed and was covered with parchment. There was a large rug in the center of the room, which was made of animal hide. Cecil's bed was made of a soft pallet of straw and was covered with a delicate cloth.
He wiped the sleep from his eyes, pulled back the covers, and stepped out of his bed. He stood up and stretched his limbs before walking across his room to his window. An eerie moonlight shone through his window. Cecil lived in a large house with two stories, the second being where he resided. Cecil looked out his window at the village.
The village was called Valeus. It resided in the westernmost reaches of Angara, in a part of the continent separated from the rest by mountain regions and forests, like many of the villages in this region.
The village was illuminated by the full moon which hung in the clear night sky. The stars sparkled in the sky. The town looked calm and peaceful. The large houses stood tall in the night and looked magnificent. Cecil stood there looking at the beautiful village and pondered on his dream.
He stood there reliving the dream for several minutes thinking on all he had been told. He sat staring out into the woods watching the wind slowly blow across their leaves, causing them to sway. A sudden movement in the woods broke Cecil from his trance. He stared intently on where the movement originated from. An object burst from the trees and took flight. It flew into the night sky and swept past Cecil making eye contact with him. It eyes were large and bright yellow. It took a few moments for Cecil's mind to think of what flew by, it was an owl. Cecil let out a long sigh of relief.
There had been reports around the country of bandits who were ransacking towns and then fading away. A fear had settled throughout the village for a few months after hearing about these bandits, but the fear had eventually faded away. The people of the village believed they were too far away from the large villages to be attacked by the bandits.
Cecil's heart slowly rescinded to its normal beating pace. He looked one more time at the edge of the woods. He then felt weariness cover him and turned around to head back to his bed. He lay down on his soft pallet and eventually faded into a troubled sleep.
x
A large ugly looking man, with scars all over his face and a bald head, cursed at the owl as it took flight. The sudden appearance of the large owl had caused him to jump back and hit the nearest tree with his arm. It still hurt and the pain throbbed through it. He quietly cursed the bird again and then cursed himself for his stupidity. He wondered if someone had seen him and what that would cause. The raid on the village would be lost, and that would anger Shadow. And that was something that did not happen if the person expected to live.
The man continued his journey around the outskirts of the village and no more accidents occurred. The entire village was asleep which was just what was needed for the raid to work. The ugly man, having completed his task, started his return journey to the camp. He quietly and quickly moved through the trees finding the path he had made trying to get to the village.
As he reached the outskirts of the camp, he felt a sudden movement behind him. Before he could move he felt the cold steel of a knife pressed against his back. The man stiffened, as he felt the point of the blade pressed against him.
"You're dead, mate." A gravely voice purred into his ear. The ugly man felt his breathe return to him.
"Let me pass you demon spawn. I have important information for Shadow, and he would not be pleased if I was held up by you." The ugly man said to the one who held the knife at his back, trying to sound unafraid.
"I am sure that you do," the gravely voice replied, "but I have heard that Shadow has already heard displeasing news this night." There was a chuckle and then the knife vanished from the ugly man's back.
The man spun around quickly, looking for the owner of the voice, and the blade. All the man saw, however, was the darkness of woods. He cursed, spun on his heel, and continued into Shadow's camp.
This was no mere camp of bandit's, as many of the villagers that they had already attacked had assumed. These were fierce warriors who served the Darkfiends, run by Shadow, but servants of a still higher power, a greater evil. Many of them had been bandits or mercenaries beforehand, but now they were forced to fight for this new evil. This raid was but the beginning, a small example of the war that was to come onto the land. A war that would end in a great power ruling over Weyard with the might of the Golden Sun. An evil whose name he was not worthy to know, but should not dare to utter even if he did.
The Darkfiend camp was well organized; everyone had a job and they did it well. If they failed to do their job, there were often severe punishments. The camp was constructed to be quick to set up and even quicker to take down. The camp was normally lighted, but tonight was a raid, and they were camped close to the village and did not want to be noticed. Only the moonlight illuminated the path through the camp.
The ugly man crossed through the camp and came to the largest tent in the center. A cold wind blew through the Darkfiend camp and the man felt a chill run up his spine. A rustle came from within the tent as he stood outside and suddenly, an owl burst forth from the flaps of the tent and soared into the night.
He instinctively had covered his head as the owl erupted from the tent, and he stared daggers at it as it flew off into the night. He suddenly remembered the owl that had caused him to almost alert the village in the night and he began to shake uncontrollably.
"Please, come inside," a calm voice said from within the tent. The man slowly stopped his shaking and gained control. He took a deep breath and entered the tent.
A large table stood in the center of the room, and it was littered with many ancient maps and manuscripts. The table was illuminated by a small candle at the table's center. A man, sitting in the corner of the tent, was silhouetted in the darkness.
"Sit down and deliver your report," the man asked casually, lifting his hand and pointing at the chair across the table from him.
The ugly man sat in the indicated chair and began telling his report. He told the man, that the village was completely unaware of the Darkfiend's presence, and that the raid would be successful. He did not, however, tell the man about his experience with the owl.
The man sat quietly listening to the ugly man's report, at its conclusion he took a deep breathe and began speaking.
"You do know that this organization is built upon trust, correct?"
"Yes, yes sir," the ugly man replied, feeling a fear rise in his chest.
"Unfortunately, you failed to mention an important detail; one that could have jeopardized this entire operation," the silhouetted man continued. "And that is something I am afraid cannot be tolerated; therefore, I must say that your employment has been terminated."
The ugly man hardly had time to move, before there was a sudden glint from the candlelight and a swish. The ugly man's head fell from his shoulders. The sheathing of a blade could be heard in the quiet tent. The silhouetted man leaned forward into the candlelight where his features came into the light.
The man's face was sunken and completely pale. Long white hair that fell well past his shoulders hung in his face. The eyes that appeared from within the white hair were ice cold. The eyes were a deep frozen blue, which held no pity. A cold smile touched his lips as he looked at the now headless body still sitting in the chair.
"It is time," the man quietly said. With that final statement a cold wind blew through the tent, causing the candle to flicker. It flickered a few times, before it went out, casting the tent in darkness.
x
Cecil lay in his bed tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep. He tried to clear his mind, but the dream kept finding its way into his head. Unable to sleep Cecil groggily pulled himself from his pallet and put on some clothing. He walked to his window and pulled it open; he stole a backward glance at his room one last time and stepped through his window. The frigid air nipped at his exposed skin, as he exited his window.
Near his window was a piece of lattice which had vines growing along its length. Cecil had used the lattice many times to climb down from his window and this time was no different. He swung from his window and grasped on to the lattice. He found a secure hold and began pulling himself down. He reached the bottom of the lattice and jumped the last remaining feet. He landed lightly and examined his surroundings. The city still looked calm and peaceful. He plunged his hands into his pockets, to try and protect them from the night air and began walking down the dirt pathway, through the village houses.
As he walked, his mind kept becoming filled with questions. How can I be the Hero of the Ages? he thought to himself. No! Stop thinking about it. It was just a dream. You are just a boy who lives in a small far off village of Valeus. The village where a traveler passes through once a year. You are the son of the village blacksmith, and will take up that trade just like your father before you and his before him. You are destined to be a man of trade, not a Hero.
Cecil's thoughts continued like this for the extent of his journey, and by the time he reached the end of the path at the beginning of the woods, he was believing that his dream was just a dream.
Cecil, now content in knowing that his dream was a dream, turned around and continued his journey home. Suddenly, a barrage of flaming arrows flew from above the trees and fell through the sky and among the village homes. Cecil dove behind a stack of logs to evade the flaming arrows.
The arrows embedded themselves into the stack of wood Cecil hid behind and several fell all about him. One even pierced through his tunic and had missed him by a hair. After a few moments, Cecil heard a loud piercing scream and he pulled his head around the stack of wood to peer at the village.
The village was in flames. The flaming arrows had lodged themselves in the thatch roofs and ignited. The flames had leapt from one house to another and now the entire village was burning.
A group of bandits tore out of the woods, and charged into the town. They wore heavy steel armor, and large spiked helmets, that completely covered their faces, except the eyes. Their eyes were blood red and the flames from the burning homes, seemed to dance across them. A lust for death and destruction resided within them. The blades that were in their hands were sharp, curved, notched scimitars. The fire from the homes looked as if it leapt across the blades.
The people fled from their burning homes only to be cut down by the bandits. Men, women, children, were cut down by the onslaught of the bandits.
Cecil acting on his emotions, leapt from behind the stack of wood and charged down the street towards the bandits, hoping he could stop them. He did not think about what he would use to fend them off, or that he was just a small boy compared to them, he simply charged towards them. As he ran past his house a hand reached out from the door and grabbed onto Cecil's collar and pulled him inside. It was Cecil's father.
Elric, which was his father's name, was the village blacksmith. He was tall and very muscular. He had brown hair, that was cut short, and his eyes were deep brown. He was dressed in battle armor and his sword was sheathed at his side. He was ready to defend the village. A deep cloud of smoke filled the house and Cecil found it hard to breath.
"Listen to me Cecil." The man's deep voice spoke quickly. "I want you to use the back door through the forge and hide in the woods." The man stared directly into Cecil's eyes and continued speaking. "Hide there, and say nothing, no matter what happens. Stay there until the bandits have left." Elric's grip on Cecil's shoulders was like a vice. "Do you understand Cecil?"
Cecil nodded his head; he felt the tears rising in his eyes. Elric bent down and took Cecil in his arms and crushed him in a great bear hug. The chill of his father's armor sent shivers through Cecil's body. Cecil, despite this, felt the love his father had for him in that hug, and that memory stayed with him until the end of his days. Elric released his son and stood up.
"Go now, Cecil." Elric said with a tone of finality. Cecil ran towards the back door of the house, but before he went through he turned and looked at his father standing tall in through the smoke. With that he opened the door and ran through his father's forge into the woods.
x
Elric stood staring at the door Cecil had gone through for a few moments. He turned to the front door, walked towards it, and opened it. The smoke from inside billowed out of the now open door. Elric took a long stride and stood outside the house. The street was littered with bodies of both villagers and bandits. He felt anger build up within him.
He heard a scream and turned towards it source. A small group of village men, who were trying to defend the village, were cornered near the woods, surrounded by a group of bloodthirsty bandits. Elric pulled his gleaming sword from its sheath. It made a ringing sound as it passed from within its holder. He took a deep breath, and charged down the dirt path towards the cornered village men, a roar building in his chest. As he reached the bandits, the battle cry erupted from his chest.
The sudden cry stopped the bandits for a few moments and that was just what Elric needed. He plunged his sword through the chest of the nearest bandit. A gurgle of death rose in the bandit's throat and he dropped to his knees. No sooner had the bandit hit the ground, Elric had pulled his sword free and decapitated the next nearest one.
This sudden arrival of hope in the village blacksmith rallied the village men and they fought against the bandits with a renewed vigor. Soon the group of bandits that had almost defeated the village men lay dead or dying at their feet.
Elric took command of the small group of village militia. He spoke to them in a tone of authority and seemed to have an aura of leadership about him.
"Listen, to me my friends." He started. "Our small village that we had believed too small to be pillaged has been attacked by bandits. These bandits sought not only to steal our belongings, but the lives of our families as well. We are all that stand between them and the destruction of another village. We have a chance to fight these bandits, these demons!" Elric's voice echoed about the small collection of men. He reached down and lifted up the head of one of the bandits, and held it up so all could see it.
The thing was hideous. Dead skin covered its face; it had deep pits and scars all across it and large sharp protruding teeth. A gasp came from the gathering as they saw the demons face.
"Fight? Against that? We have no chance! We will die! We should flee!" A village man cried out from the throng. Others seemed to nod their heads in agreement.
Elric still stood tall and unfazed. "Yes, fight and you may die. Run and you will live, at least for a little while." Elric began again. "These bandits have ravaged the lands, and pillaged the villages of many people. They have killed men, women, and children. Should you live through the time when they pillage many villages and kill many innocents, and you lie an old man, dying in your bed, all alone, would you be willing to trade all of those days, for the chance to come back here and fight against these demons in hopes of saving another family or village?" The question hung in the air.
"I ask you as a friend, as a brother, will you fight with me? Will you let these demons kill innocent people and see what has happened here, happen elsewhere? What will you do? I will fight! I will fight for all those who have felt the pain of losing a loved one to these demons! I will fight to protect others from having to feel that pain! I will fight! What will you do?" With that final statement he threw the demon's head into one of the burning homes and began walking down through the village towards the main group of bandits, his sword held firmly in his hand.
The group of men stared down the path the blacksmith had taken, a new respect for him in their eyes. A few men began to follow Elric, and then more, until the entire group was marching behind Elric towards the camp.
The bandits had constructed at the edge of the woods a small temporary tent where they were storing the loot gathered from the village. A group of bandits stood around a tall man with long white hair who was issuing orders.
Elric stopped half the distance from the group and called out to them. The man stopped talking and looked at Elric, and the bandits turned their heads to look as well.
"Listen to me you demons of Acheron. Your time in this world has been ill-spent!" Elric suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to look. Standing behind him were all the village men, they had come to help fight. Each of them held a look of defiance in their eyes, and was prepared to do battle. Elric smiled and turned his head and began speaking again, with renewed vigor
"We will not allow you to harm another village! We will stop you here! Prepare yourselves!" With that final statement, Elric raised his blade in a mock salute and charged into battle, the village-men following close behind.
The man with the long white hair stared at the oncoming militia, and suppressed a smile. He raised a long bony finger a pointed at them. The group of bandits around smiled with pleasure behind their helmets. They pulled their scimitars from their sheaths and charged to meet the oncoming village-men.
The collided together, their blades slamming together, sending sparks flying. The battle was magnificent. The blades flashed quickly through the night. The village-men easily defeated the first group of bandits, but as soon as they had fallen, it seemed that two more would rush in to take their place. The village men fought gloriously but soon they began to fall, there were too many bandits. Soon the only man left standing was Elric. Despite the overwhelming amounts of bandits he was still able to fend them off.
Elric was suddenly struck in his leg and fell to his knees. A bandit, eager to take advantage, raised his blade to deliver the killing blow when he stopped. The bandit lowered the blade and stepped back. Elric pulled himself to his feet, his sword held at the ready. The bandits moved to the side and a pathway appeared in their throng.
The man with long white hair strode down the path towards Elric. He stopped in front of him, his cold eyes measuring him up.
"My name is Shadow." The man said. "You have done well to have slain so many of my men."
"They are not men! They are demons!" Elric replied angrily.
"But they are mine nonetheless." Shadow said calmly. "Just like you will be."
"I will never!" Elric said with defiance.
"My friend, you will join me or die, but either way your soul will be mine." Shadow said in his calm voice.
"Never!" Elric yelled vehemently. He thrust his sword at Shadow, but the blade however never touched Him, he dodged to the side and laughed.
"You cannot defeat me. Do you actually think you can?" Shadow said with a chuckle.
Elric yelled and let loose an impressive array of moves. He lunged, thrust, and twirled the blade around in the air. Shadow, unable to dodge all the slashes, had to pull out his own blade to deflect Elric's blows. Elric locked swords with Shadow and caught a glimpse of Shadow's blade.
The blade looked evil. Its handle was made of the blackest steel, and at its end was a silver ball, for balance. The hilt of the blade was shaped in the image of the skull of a horned demon, its horns acting as the swords backup hand guard. In the demon hilt's eyes were black obelisk jewels. The sword's true hand guard began at the end of the horned demon's face, it was long and steel hard, with a skull at each end. The blade of the sword had a strange architecture. The blade was spiked, for a small part at the base of the blade, which smoothed out and became a beautiful gleaming silver blade. Written along the breadth of the blade were ancient runes.
Elric gasped as he saw the blade. Being a blacksmith, he had heard of many legendary blades. The blade held by Shadow was the legendary sword Vereor, also known as "Doomfear". The blade held in Shadow's hand was supposed to have been used by Aginorin, the Dark Lord of Acheron, in his invasion of Weyard during the Sol Wars. The blade was rumored to have the power to steal one's soul.
Elric felt a fear settle in his stomach, as Shadow and himself dueled, their blades sending sparks in the night. Elric and Shadow lunged and thrust at each other, neither able to break through the other's defense. Shadow suddenly feinted to his right, spun to his left, and elbowed Elric in the face. Elric was knocked backwards and Shadow plunged Vereor into Elric's chest cutting through armor, skin, and bone.
Elric stood there shocked for a moment; the pain had left his body. He stared at Shadow, and saw the wicked smile on his face as he looked at him. Elric fell to his knees. The demon eyes of the blade suddenly burned brightly. A blue aura began to surround the blade.
Elric felt an excruciating pain. His soul was being torn from his body. He tried to fight the demonic powers of the blade, but it was too strong. Elric's last though was of Cecil, before his spirit left him.
Shadow stood there for a few moments staring at the now lifeless body of Elric. The demon eyes on the hilt faded away as did the blue aura surrounding the blade. Shadow pulled the sword from Elric's chest, the blood dripped from the blade. Elric's body sat on its knees a few moments before falling over. Shadow stared at Elric and let out a long, deep laugh. He wiped the blood from his blade and sheathed it. He then spun on his heel and began walking off, his band of demons following behind him.
x
Cecil sat staring through the woods watching his father and a man with long white hair locked in combat. He watched them fighting, seeing only a blur of their swords and the sparks that erupted from them when they made contact with each other. The fight seemed to last for hours, and Cecil found himself amazed by his father's sword fighting. He never knew his father could wield a sword like that.
He saw the man with the long hair suddenly fall to his right; the man however spun to his left and hit his father in his face. Elric fell backwards and the man plunged his sword into Elric's chest.
Cecil tried to cry out but his throat constricted. He saw his father fall to his knees. The man smiled evilly at Elric. The tears began to fill Cecil's eyes as he watched. A blue aura appeared around the blade and ripples of energy seemed to surge into his father's body. Elric's body went into convulsions and then seemed to go limp. The blue aura surrounding the blade faded away.
The man pulled the sword from Elric's body and let out a long deep laugh. Cecil felt a great hatred settle in his heart, and tried to stand up to attack the man, but he was rooted to the spot. The man finished his laugh and cleaned his blade and sheathed it. He then spun on his heel and began walking away, the bandits following closely behind him.
Cecil buried his face in his hands and wept with much sorrow. Sobs racked Cecil's body and he cried for many hours. He cried until no more tears came. His body was so fatigued and he was so wearisome, that he fell into a troubled sleep.
A/N (CL): Well that concludes the prologue to the novel Shadow Wars. I hoped that you enjoyed it. I know that the first chapter was pretty gruesome, but it will get better. Stay tuned, and of course, please Read and Review!
A/N: (MoR): Hope you liked it! I can't say anything really that Cyan Light didn't already mention. So R&R!