EDIT: Well, this chapter isn't any different to the first time, just a few less typos (I hope). Well, I'll do the new review replies!
Theodorel: Thank you! Yeah, they never mention much about the history, so I thought I'd give it a bit. Hope ya like this one!
Corycian Muse: Cool, glad you like 'em all. Yeah, I'd hate it if they did come out like that, but I'm pleased with the result. I'll try and continue it as long as I can. Yes, we must revolutionize the GS fandom, and we shall be at the forefront! Yes, I noticed you added me, we simply must try and chat some time! The Count of Monte Christo, eh? Anubis is better! HAIL ANUBIS! Heh, um… yeah!
Unicornmaddy: Thank you! I shall!
SpasticDjinn: Heh, I know you like things to be long when their well written. Glad you like the OC's, always a risk writing them, I guess, you have no idea if people will like 'em. Yes, cya later!
Author's Note: (Cyan Light)Well I have got to say that this was kind of a filler chapter. I mean it is a very important piece of the story, there just is not very much action. I do have to say though, that this was very enjoyable to write, it just seemed to flow while writing it. But I wanted to give a big thanks to all the readers who reviewed, your reviews inspired me to write a little faster and update it soon for you.
A/N (MoR): Hey all! Okay, this chapter is sorta filler, but it's all just building up to the main story. After this, there will be another chapter setting up the scene before war breaks out and the story really gets going. So read and enjoy.
Oh yeah, when you read the description of Aginorin here, that was inspired by a cross of Anubis from SG1, and the Witch King from the movie "Return of the King". I guess if you think of that, you'll have a rough idea of what we're talking about.
Also, read my one-shot "Battle of Mount Aleph" (on this account) for a good description of the battle of Mount Aleph that's talked about in here.
You'll also notice a definite Tolkien inspiration here, with the sword thing, but mayhap you'll like it. Or not. We'll see. I think I forgot to mention that last time. Oh well. Silly me.
Chapter One
"The Mark of a Hero"
The legendary sword known as Vereor, which was used by the Dark Lord, Aginorin, is an ancient powerful sword of an unknown origin. Many rumors have spread about this sword's creation, but most scholars only believe one theory to be possible.
Vereor was created many millennia's ago, in the Dark Void. The Dark Lord Aginorin, commander of the Legions of Darkness, was preparing for his invasion of Weyard. He needed a weapon that would give him an unimaginable power. He therefore forged the mighty sword Vereor. Aginorin placed within this powerful sword a piece of his soul, which almost insured his immortality. As long as either the sword or the Dark Lord lived, he would never be truly defeated. Should the Dark Lord ever fall, but the sword survived; he would return stronger than ever.
The sword was created with the blackest of dark arts and was said to have the ability to steal its victim's soul. It was said that Aginorin saved this terror only for the greatest of his adversaries. When he had administered the killing blow, the sword would steal the victim's soul and deliver it to Aginorin. The pain of having one's soul torn from them must be excruciating. The worst feature of this demonic sword was that after the soul was captured it would be under Aginorin's command. He could use the owner's powers and skills as his own and could even take that person's image as his own. This is the reason that the sword was given the name "Doomfear" during the Sol Wars.
The fear of this sword however has passed throughout the Golden Age. It has not been seen since that mighty battle at the base of Mount Aleph, the place where the final battle of the Sol Wars took place. It was also where the Asha'man Lucid descended from Aetherius and defeated Aginorin with a holy sword. Vereor is believed to have been destroyed, just like the Dark Lord...
Passage obtained from a manuscript about the Ancient Blades of Weyard
-Temple of Sol, Archives-
The man who called himself Shadow moved through the ancient ruins cautiously. He felt led here, knew that he should be here, yet he couldn't help but feel afraid. He pushed his fear deep down inside himself and continued onward.
The ruins were very old. The pale moonlight illuminated the small cobblestone path that led through the remnants of it. The path led to the only structure that was not crumbling. It was the place that Shadow had been tasked to find. It was the Temple of Acheron. Many years ago, when Aginorin was defeated at the base of Mount Aleph, the most inconspicuous of his followers, the Darkfiends, gathered the master's remains from the field of battle and took it to a safe location. That location was the Temple of Acheron.
Shadow walked down the cobblestone street and up the large marble stairs. He stopped at the Temple's large aged stone doors and peered up at them. The doors were very large and made of solid stone. The massive doors were sealed shut by some powerful force. A large circular inscription was carved into the door. The circle was symmetrical on both sides of the door. An evil looking sword was carved in the center of the circle. It was a representation of Vereor. Also written within the circle were ancient runes that Shadow translated easily.
A warning to those who seek to find
the remains of our master, long denied
For deep within these halls
and far beyond these walls
Rests the objects the Dark Lord most prized.
But only the blood of the chosen shall pass this gate
For inside they shall receive their fate
It will be the time the Darkfiends long for
The time of the Dark Lords return
The time when the Alshman Lucid will be no more
Shadow stood pondering the words on the large stone doors, as if deciding something. As he reached a conclusion he removed a knife from a small sheath at his side. He pulled the blade across the palm of his right hand and the blood flowed freely. Shadow then placed his hand within the circle on the door. The blood flowing from the slash across his hand was absorbed into the wall. The sword on the wall started to glow bright red. The large stone doors let out a loud groan and slowly creaked open.
The mustiness of time assaulted Shadow's nostrils as he was the first to have entered the temple in a thousand years. Shadow looked beyond the temple doors but saw nothing but a cloak of darkness within it. Suddenly candles burst into flame just beyond the temple doors and slowly other candles ignited and created a lighted path down a long hallway.
Shadow took a deep breath and entered the temple. He followed the lighted path down the hallway to another set of stone doors. As he reached the doors they slowly moaned open. The room beyond the doors was well illuminated.
The room was very large and open. In its center stood a large platform with stairs leading to it. Resting upon the platform was a massive stone sarcophagus. Shadow slowly walked towards the platform and up the stairs to stand before the ancient coffin. Etched into its surface was a picture of a battle long ago. A large black figure was holding a sword and all around him demons were fighting robed warriors. The mighty Golden Sun laid suspended high above the field of battle casting an eerie light over the combat.
Shadow looked intently at the black figure in the picture. It was supposed to be a portrayal of the Dark Lord Aginorin. A black cloak covered his body and black armor showed where the cloak allowed. Beneath the helm, no face could be seen, only a coalescence of dark energy. This was the one Shadow had been serving for all his years, this was his true master.
Shadow grasped the lid of the sarcophagus and slowly began to push against it. The lid slowly gave way as he forced it open. The lid fell from the coffin and hit the ground sending a loud ringing sound around the room. Shadow stared into the coffin where his destiny lay.
In the coffin lay what remained of Aginorin. Large, heavy pieces of armor lay within. They looked viscous. Large spikes protruded from them. The steel that they had been created with had been tainted black by an ancient evil power. An evil looking sword lay across the armor, the demon eyes on the hilt seeming to stare up at him.
Shadow had seen this before in his dreams, or rather his nightmares. This is the task he had been appointed. It was time for Aginorin to return to the world of Weyard. And then, he would seize the power of the Golden Sun.
Shadow reached out and grasped the handle of the sword. He lifted it from the sarcophagus and looked at it. Suddenly the sword burned brightly and dark energy began to course through it and into Shadow's body. The pain was incredible! Shadow fell to his knees as the energy pulsed through his body. He tried to release the sword but it was held in his hand by an evil force.
The pain slowly subsided and when it had Shadow heard a voice from deep within his mind speaking to him. You have served me well Shadow. Shadow did not need to ask who the voice belonged to, he knew for he had heard it in his nightmares, calling out to him. But I now require a suitable host in which I can reside until I am strong enough to walk this world again. The voice continued. Aginorin, for that was who it was, did not ask permission, he did not need to. He had chosen Shadow for this purpose long ago. Shadow was merely the commander of the Darkfiends, he could not defy his master.
A dark, black energy that was Aginorin's spirit flowed through the sword and into Shadow's body. Aginorin's spirit covered Shadow's mind like a coating of oil on a vessel. You will be my body until the time is right when I will once again walk this world without the need of your pathetic, fragile flesh. Shadow felt the Dark Lord within his mind. He was possessed now, or at least partially possessed. Aginorin still needed time to grow and extend his control.
Shadow placed the dark sword that still rested in his hand in a sheath on his side that he had been commanded to bring. He looked within the coffin at the cursed armor of his master and noticed a black cloak, that seemed to absorb all light around it. He suddenly heard the voice once again in his mind. Do not wear these! The time has not yet come and you are not worthy. Take them with you and keep them safe in my name. They must await my return. Do not fail me.
Shadow didn't even contemplate the possibility of failure. For years, the Darkfiends had successfully remained hidden, growing in power. He would see to it that they would protect these items with their lives. Shadow placed the cloak and heavy armor in a large leather bag he brought with him. He slung it over his shoulder with a groan, and then turned to leave. His work there was done, and his master would not appreciate time wasted. And so it had begun...
x
Shadow opened his eyes after reliving what had happened several years before. Since then he had slowly gained power and the Darkfiends had begun to make systematic attacks on small villages in search of the warrior chosen by Sol.
Shadow was kneeling before a small altar in the center of his tent. Resting upon the altar was the remnants of Aginorin's armor. Vereor was laid against it, the demon hilts eyes, staring at Shadow. The eyes from the demon hilt suddenly burned brightly. Large ripples of dark energy flowed down the blade of the sword. A beam of red light burst from the demon hilts eyes and converged before Shadow and began to take shape. Slowly the energy took a form resembling a human. When the energy finished taking shape Aginorin's spirit stood before Shadow.
"My master," Shadow said before bowing before the Dark Lord. Aginorin's spirit did not have any physical form, it was simply a form of dark energy. Power emanated from the Dark Lord and Shadow was amazed by it. I can only imagine how much power he will wield when he walks this world again, Shadow thought to himself.
"My minion, we have now destroyed the village of Valeus, which was where the prophesied chosen one would be born. No being can stop my resurrection now! Yet, why is it that I can still feel a great power from the ruins of that village, Shadow?" Aginorin's strong powerful voice asked.
"I do not know my master; we killed all that lived in that village. The greatest warrior from the village, died by my hand and his soul was given to you my Lord." Shadow replied.
"Yes, he was very powerful; he could have been the chosen one. Yet, this feeling cannot be ignored. Shadow, send two Deathhunters to intercept this power. Tell them to leave no stone unturned, and kill any that they come across. Do you understand Shadow?" Aginorin's voice rumbled.
"Yes, my master. It will be done." Shadow replied.
"I do not accept failure Shadow, remember that." Aginorin said before his spirit returned to the sword. Shadow rose from his kneeling position on the floor and walked towards his tent flap. Yes, he knew Aginorin would not accept failure; he would find this source of power and end it.
x
Cecil found himself standing at the beginning of a large golden hallway. The large hall was brightly lit by glowing torches that lined the walls, leading towards a large door at the hallway's end. Cecil turned around and examined what lay behind him. A large wooden door with a large golden handle stood there. Cecil reached out to open the doors but found them locked. He turned around again and began walking towards the large stone doors at the hallways end, examining the walls as he did so.
Large pictures lined the walls on the hallway. Each of the pictures portrayed a person's life. The pictures began with the person's birth and continued on through the rest of their life. As he walked down the hallway examining the pictures on the wall he felt a strange feeling of deja vu. About a quarter of the way down the hallway, the pictures stopped. The last picture on the wall showed a man with long white hair locked in combat with a man in golden armor. Surrounding the battling warriors were cottages burning brightly. In the trees beyond them he saw a boy staring at the battle.
Cecil suddenly had trouble breathing. The pictures lining the hallway were from his life! Cecil stared at the picture on the wall in shock. His breathe began to slowly return to him after a few moments and he recovered from his shock. He took one last glance at the picture on the wall and continued his journey down the hallway, towards the large stone doors.
It seemed that the closer Cecil got to the stone doors, the larger they became. With every step he took towards the doors they seemed to grow larger and larger. By the time he reached the stone doors they had become massive and towered looming over Cecil. Etched in the surface of the large doors were ancient runes. The characters that were written on the door were very large and stretched across the breadth of them. Cecil stared up at the characters on the door, but he was not schooled in the ancient languages and was unable to decipher them.
Cecil stared intently at the runes on the door hoping that he would be able to understand them. As he stared at them they suddenly burned brightly, casting a bright light around the entire hallway filling it completely. Golden Light erupted from the characters on the wall and Cecil had to close his eyes from the brilliance of it. From beneath his eyelids, Cecil felt the lustrous light fade away. Cecil cautiously opened his eyes to examine the door. Where the ancient language on the door had been written it now was carved in his on tongue! He could now understand what was written!
Cecil was amazed by this occurrence. It was almost too much to believe. Cecil stared up at the inscription on the door and slowly read it.
Only the one chosen by Sol
to save the world from destruction
may pass beyond these doors
For that which resides beyond them
is that which only he can bear
that will mark him as the chosen
With this mark that he receives
he will be sworn to combat evil
and stop the dreadful return of Aginorin
The chosen will pass these doors thrice times
each one more important than before
until the time he leaves this world
Cecil read the last line of the inscription and pondered what the inscription meant. As he did this another line of inscription slowly began to etch itself into the wall. Cecil watched this slowly and as the last line of inscription appeared it flashed once with a golden light. Cecil slowly read what had just been written.
So pass beyond these doors chosen one
and inside it will be bestowed upon you
the Mark of a Hero
As he finished reading the inscription, the large doors slowly opened. The room beyond the doors looked incredible. Just beyond the door stood two statues of mighty warriors. In each of their hands they held a large glowing globe of light. The light from these globes lighted a path from the door to a large stone picture in the rooms center. Cecil slowly walked past the mighty guardians and up to the large picture where he stopped.
The picture was a depiction of the final battle of the Sol Wars. As he stared at the picture it seemed to come to life before him. White, robed warriors were locked in combat with some of the evilest creatures Cecil had ever seen. They used mighty powers against them; he saw plumes of fire, ice, and rain falling from the sky. Mighty tempests tore through the ranks of evil demons and the earth seemed to open up and swallow entire legions whole.
A large mountain loomed in the distance and he saw many men, women, and children casting prayers up into the heavens. Cecil then heard a large roar and looked at the picture to see where it came from. A large evil looking being stood just behind the legions of demons, Cecil felt a great fear in his chest as he looked at him. The demon wore spiked armor that almost completely covered his body. Draped across his body was a black cape that absorbed all the light about him. In his hand was an evil looking sword.
'I have seen that sword before!' Cecil though to himself. 'The man who killed my father held it.' The thought of his father brought tears to his eyes, but he blinked them away quickly.
The demon was reaching for something in the sky. Cecil followed his gaze and saw a Golden Sun suspended above the field of battle. Suddenly a glowing sword of light descended from the heavens and fell with blinding speed towards the demon. The demon made one last desperate attempt to grab the Golden Sun, but the sword crashed into him. The demon let out a roar of agony and was covered by the golden light. A concussive wave of dark energy tore across the land as the light faded and where the demon had stood there was nothing.
The picture returned to stillness, but Cecil saw that the Golden Sun still cast rays of light about the rooms. Cecil was captivated by the glowing Golden Sun in the carved picture. He felt himself reaching his hand to touch it, but he could not control his actions. Cecil placed his right hand against the Golden Sun. He felt a great warmth flood through his hand and into his body. A great joy filled his being. All his troubles left him as he touched the Golden Sun and all he could feel was a great love.
The light from the Golden Sun slowly began to fade away and as it did so did the incredible joy that he felt. Cecil pulled his hand slowly away from the picture and examined it. He saw within his hand a swirling mist of golden light. He stared at it, amazed. As he looked at it, the light slowly began to take shape. When it finished, the image of the Golden Sun appeared within his hand.
Cecil looked at the Golden Sun in the picture with amazement. He looked back at his hand again and saw the swirling light had returned. 'Wow!' He thought to himself. Suddenly large hands grabbed his arms and threw him backward. Cecil flew through the air and slammed into the wall sending him into darkness.
x
Cecil's eyes flashed open. The afternoon sun was shining brightly the sky, but it was suddenly blocked out by a large shadow. Strong hands grasped his arms again and threw him backwards. Cecil slammed into a large tree with a tremendous force. Cecil almost crumpled to the ground but he reached out and steadied himself against a branch. He felt dizzy and his vision was blurred. Cecil turned to face his assailant.
Standing before Cecil were two large demonic creatures. They wore light armor and a large sword hung at their sides. They had long pointed ears and long black hair that hung well past their shoulders. Draped across them was a long black cloak. The most mystifying feature they had was their eyes. They did not have any! Where their eyes should have been there was nothing but empty sockets.
The Deathhunters, for they were the ones Shadow had sent to find the source of power, grinned wickedly at their prey and began walking towards him. Cecil however wasn't going to wait for them. He spun around and began running through the trees and into the smoldering ruins of his village. The Deathhunters took off after him in close pursuit. Cecil ran as fast as his legs would carry him, but the demons still gained distance.
Suddenly one of the Deathhunters appeared before Cecil causing him to skid to a stop. Cecil spun from the demon to try and run back the way he had come but the other demon blocked his path. Cecil saw laying at his feet a small sword that had been used by one of the villagers during the attack. He lunged at the sword and grasped it by the hilt swinging it at the nearest Deathhunter. The demon however leaped backwards to evade the blow.
The demon stared at Cecil with his eyeless sockets, a look of contempt upon his face. He grasped the hilt of the sword at his side, and pulled the blade free. The demon let out a long evil laugh and began walking towards Cecil. Cecil stood his ground holding the small sword in his hand at the ready. He stood there facing almost sure death just as his father would have.
The demon reached Cecil and swung the blade in an arc. Cecil tried to deflect the blade with his own small sword but the demon was too strong. As their blades connected Cecil's small sword was knocked from his grasp and went soaring through the air. The demon then swung again at Cecil, who was now weapon less. Cecil tried to dodge out of the way but he could not fully evade the blow. The blade slashed across his arm sending a searing pain up it.
Cecil sat on his knees grasping the wound on his arm, as the demon stood over him raising the sword for a final blow. He felt a tremendous amount of power building within him. All the pain he felt within him for the destruction of his village and the loss of his father he channeled. The power seemed to build in his hand crying for release.
Cecil's hand flashed up at the demon and a large beam of light hit the demon in the chest and sent him flying through the air. The demon slammed into the ground sending up a cloud of dust as he did so. It looked dazed for a moment but slowly began to pull itself up from the ground. Cecil however wasn't finished with him.
He stared at the ground beneath the demon willing it to swallow the demon. Once again he felt power building within him as he focused on the earth, willing it to open wide. He raised his hand again and the ground began to quake. The demon looked around with its eyeless sockets, a look of fear on its face, when the ground opened wide. A huge chasm appeared underneath the demon and it fell into the awaiting darkness. The chasm then slammed together again, becoming whole once more.
Cecil suddenly felt extremely weak and fell to his knees. He stared at his hand and saw the golden sun burning brightly within it. The demon stared at Cecil with a shocked look on his face. Afraid that he would meet the same fate as his friend, the Deathhunter pulled his sword from his sheath and lunged at Cecil, to finish him off. Cecil tried to move but was too weak. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the demon lunged at him. Just before the blade struck he closed his eyes. The blow, however, never came.
A tall man plowed into the demon from the side and sent him careening to the ground. The demon looked up at the man and a growl rumbled from him. The man's features were hidden by a large cloak that covered his body. The only thing visible was his face which looked wizened with small wrinkles beginning to form around his eyes. The man's eyes were the deepest blue and seemed to hold much joy deep within them. The eyes now, however, held a look of barely contained fury.
The demon lunged at the man, who easily dodged the blow. Angered by this the demon tried again only to miss him as the man dodged just as easily. The demon let his anger show by letting out a loud roar at the man. It then took a deep breath and opened its mouth; a large plume of flame erupted from it and headed straight towards the man. The man didn't even flinch.
His hand shot out from beneath his cloak and a large stone spire tore itself from the ground in front of him blocking him from the fire. The plume of fire hit the spire shattering it and sending pieces flying everywhere. The man however stood there unscathed.
The demon stood there shocked by this, but not as shocked as when a large beautiful blade seemed to leap into the man's hands from beneath his cloak. The demon however did not let this slow him for long. The Deathhunter leaped at the man swinging his sword wildly. The man however dodged and deflected the blows with ease. Then the man finally pressed the attack. He swung his blade with a trained hand. His blade was a blur as it struck the demon time and time again. Finally the battle was over. The man leaped away from the demon and sheathed his sword as he did so.
The demon stood there open mouthed before its head fell from its shoulders. The body then burst into flames casting ashes into the breeze.
Cecil stared up at the man who had defeated the demon with such ease. The man let out a long sigh and pulled the hood of his cloak from his head and turned to face Cecil. He had gray hair that hung down to his neck. He walked over to Cecil and reached down to help him to his feet. Cecil grasped the man's hand and pulled himself to his feet. The man saw the slash on Cecil's arm.
"Let me help you with that cut," the man said kneeling down and placing his hand on the cut. The cut was very deep and blood flowed freely from it. The man closed his eyes. Cecil felt great warmth in his arm and he saw a blue aura appear around the man as he healed it. When the cut was completely healed the man removed his hand and rose to his feet.
"I am sorry that I did not arrive sooner, my boy. I saw the fire from my cottage in the Angaran Mountains, close to here. I traveled through the night in order to reach this place. I am glad that I was able to at least save one survivor. But please tell me the story of how your village was attacked." The main said to Cecil.
Cecil felt that he could trust this man who came to his aid and began telling him the story about the bandit attack on his village. He also told him about the battle between his father and the man with long white hair. He then told him the strange occurrence that happened with the sword he wielded. The man seemed very interested in the sword and asked Cecil to describe it, which he did. When Cecil finished telling him the story, the man had a look of fear in his eyes.
"I am sorry to hear about your father my boy, he died a very horrible death. The sword you saw was Vereor, the sword used by the Dark Lord Aginorin. If what you say happened, then your father's soul was taken from him. I am sorry. I can't believe that the sword has been rediscovered." The man said closing his eyes and bowing his head. "I have felt the evil, reentering the land for years now, but I never dreamed that Aginorin would return during my time. The world of Weyard will soon face times of great trial and tribulation, if only the Order would believe me." The man said lost in thought.
"The Order?" Cecil asked questioningly.
"Wha-What, oh the Order, the Order of Sol, my boy. Have you never heard of them? I was once a Sol Knight, many years ago." The man replied.
"Oh, I have heard of the Order of Sol, Haran told me about them." Cecil said without thinking. "Haran?" The man asked.
Cecil felt very stupid, saying that he was a man from his dream, but he did not want to lie so he told him. Instead of laughing the man looked at Cecil intently.
"What else happened in your dream?" The man asked Cecil. Cecil then told him his dream excluding the prophecy and the Hero of Ages. The man sat there lost in thought pondering what had been told to him. Something suddenly occurred to him.
"I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Sabin Bakura." The man said offering his hand to Cecil. "I'm Cecil," replied Cecil grasping the man's hand. "Just Cecil," the man asked with a laugh. Cecil cracked a smile. "No, my name is Cecil Constantine."
The released each other's hands and let them fall to their sides. As Cecil's arm fell towards his side, Sabin's arm shot out with blinding speed and grasped his arm. He flipped Cecil's hand palm upward and stared at the glowing light swirling in his hand.
"Whe-Where did you get this?" The man asked with barely contained excitement. Cecil explained to Sabin the dream where he received the mark. Sabin looked at Cecil, with renewed respect after the story. "If what you say is true, then the world will face great peril even sooner than I thought." Sabin said to Cecil a look of thought on his face. After a few moments Sabin came to a conclusion and began speaking again. "I was told once long ago that my apprentice would change the course of history. I have watched the years of my life slowly pass by while waiting for this warrior. Throughout my lifetime, I have seen some of the greatest warriors of the age. I even trained a few myself. But I never found the one that I felt drawn to take on as my pupil, my apprentice. I feel that fate has drawn us together Cecil, and that you are the one that I have sought throughout all my long years. I ask you Cecil, if you would allow me the honor to train you as my apprentice."
Cecil looked at the man, remembering what Haran had said about a teacher that would come to him. He looked around at the smoldering ruins of his village, thinking of lost friends, and lost families. He had the choice now, to help make the world a better place. It was the task he had been chosen for. It was his destiny. He looked at Sabin, who was looking at him expectantly awaiting his decision.
"Yes, I would be honored, Master Sabin." Cecil replied, as he made a solemn vow to himself. I promise that I will become the Hero I was destined to be. I will protect all who need it. I will defend the land and safeguard the people to the utmost of my abilities, even if it means sacrificing myself so that they can live. This I promise on the memory of my father.
The sun in the sky began to set. Orange and purple colors merged together in a beautiful unity. Cecil stared at the setting sunset, burning it into his memory.
"I promise, father," Cecil whispered as a tear rolled down his cheek.
A/N (Cyan Light): Well that concludes the first chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter will begin ten years later. Cecil has trained throughout those ten years and has become a great warrior. I did not want to bore you the readers with several chapters of his training. You will hear some of the training however throughout the rest of the story. Well I believe that is everything. Please Read and Review! Also tell us any improvements you think we should make!
A/N (MoR): Okay, hope you liked it! The next chapter will set up the scene for the rest of the story, and then things can really start rolling. Until then, R&R!
EDIT: Okay, that's where we updated to last time. Now, the next chapter was never actually finished, but if people want, I'll see if I can't do some editing, and polish up what was written, for your reading enjoyment. After that… we'll see. R&R!