Disclaimer: I don't own ragnarok, only one charaacter in this story, the rest were either my friends or made up.

Prelude: Fateful Past

Wandering through Rune-Midgard was a paladin, his once silver-platinum armor now thickened with the blood of many, stained forever for the ones he has lost because he could not protect them, the ones whom he had killed to protect his friends. The chest plate of this paladin was now dented from many a battle, his once proud swords that defended many he wanted to protect were now hung on his back in their sheathes, stained, dulled and chip his swords were. His big shield which once protected many whom he was proud to protect was now scratched everywhere and was on his right arm, like a dead-weight. To him, carrying that heavy weight of the shield was like carrying the many lives he promised to protect, and failed, his hair, which once was black because of his nationality of being Asian was now crimson red, how he got his hair red that was a long story. The young paladin leaned on a tree, leaning his back on it while he sat, taking out a deep sigh of breath and closing his eyes, he reminisced that fateful day, that day when he lost all he had valued for, all whom he wanted to protect in the guild he was proud to be in and the friends in others. ..

Repherion Castle, Saturday, second year of the reign of chaos

Inside the castle of Repherion stood its defenders, two paladins, a professor of great knowledge, a high priest, priests and priestesses, hunters, snipers and a high priestess, wife of the leader of this guild, the guild of Order of VP. Zero Blight, leader of VP was a paladin with white hair dropping past his shoulder, tied near the end, wearing the usual paladin armor attire, only difference was that his cape was made of pure white, like the soft feathers of a dove. They all stood in the castle, near their prized castle, in the room where all would be decided, weather or not would they protect their castle from the power hungry lord knights, it all went down to this.

Eloron Swiftblade, a paladin was one of young age, carefree and never taking things seriously outside of battle, however inside a battle was as berserk and strong as any other senior paladin, some saw him as one of Zero Blight's co-leaders, however, despite what family they had came from these two were very close, Eloron had the usual paladin attire with his two swords sheathed on his back, making an X. They were both ready to fight and protect those who needed them. Sweat from waiting for his enemies so long was falling from his forehead to the ground. Zero placed a hand on his shoulder, 'Don't worry Eloron, we shall protect this castle with all that we have or die trying, we shall fight with honour and take as many as we can with us, however, as your leader you must listen to every command I give you, understood?' Eloron could only nod; he was already ready to take out some of the castle invaders. A young hunter came bursting out of the second to last room and saluted Zero. 'They've breached our second line of defense, I was the only one that could escape in time and try to spread the news, they have many…many….ugh' the hunter fell, poison had been coursing through his veins since he was running to bring the news.

As of nowhere, twelve Lord Knights, two assassin cross and a high priest burst into the room. Zero and his guild members kept calm, ready to take them. As they were fighting, the lord knights were ganging on Eloron and Zero, trying to take them out. Eloron fought his way through the Lord Knights on charbroiled pecopeco. Cutting all in his way, blood splattering as each lord knight was either wounded or killed by him, the blood splattered on his face, on his forehead mixing with the sweat, quickly hardening the blood on his forehead. He ran towards Zero trying to save his master and friend, the one who taught him many teachings in the ways of the paladin. He ran forward and took out another lord knight, just as he was near Zero, the boss of that guild came in, riding a charbroiled pecopeco with red armor and his own red armor on himself, some say the pecopeco was a gift from the demons, for him being so cruel and merciless in battle. He almost struck down on Eloron with a Spiral Pierce move when suddenly Zero came in the way and blocked it with his already shattering shield.

'Run Eloron! You're too young to die here, live now and fight them another day, we shall hold them off, just run and may we meet each other again sometime!' Zero said as he started fighting all the lord knights, some priests, hunters and snipers were already dead, there were only four left, excluding Eloron they were Karu, Zero, Cotton, and Storm. Eloron ran out of the castle. He ran into an inn to stay for the night and hope for the best. As he came out and went back into the outskirts near Repherion castle, the heads of those who were killed were hanged on pikes. He longingly hoped it wasn't Zero, Karu, Cotton or Storm. But than he saw it, the head of Zero, his master, his friend, his mentor on a pike, dead. Eloron let out tears of anger and sorrow, his friends; the ones he promised to protect were dead. He cried in anger and only managed to mutter these words. 'Leader of this guild who have brought chaos to all of Rune-Midgard and have made the wars a kill zone and battlefield, I shall come back one day, and destroy you and take back this castle, even if I have to do it alone and throw my life in the process, I promise to destroy you!' he yelled.

Suddenly, Eloron opened his eyes because he had heard something or someone was creeping towards him, obviously a petty thug who wanted to get his hands on money just to buy his alcohol. Eloron pretended to close his eyes and reminisce again so that the thug would come near, closer and closer the thug went until it was a shadow over Eloron. Than Eloron struck, he took his sheathed flamberge off his back with his right arm and unsheathed his sword just about an inch, pushing towards the thug's throat, almost slicing the thug's throat. 'Back off….' Eloron said coldly as he quickly unsheathed his sword with lightning speed and put it back on his back. The thug, scared at the speed of such a rundown looking paladin quickly ran off. Again Eloron closed his eyes, remembering why he had dyed his once dark black hair, shining in the sun to red, and why he made his cape red….

A week after the death of his friends and guild mates, Eloron had walked around, almost everywhere with shock still on his face, he couldn't believe it, his leader, one of the best paladins he had known was gone, along with his friends in that guild, he thought that he was the only sole survivor of VP. As he was walking he had known he had to avenge his guild mates' death, but he wasn't strong enough yet nor did he know how to, he felt useless, he had lost all his faith in himself and the ability he had to protect people he cared for. He started walking into Payon Village, this was the most peaceful place he had known and suited him well as he was a young swordsman needing to find an inn to stay for the night. Than, an idea struck him, for the ones he failed to protect and for the blood he shed to protect those he swore to protect, he would dye his dark black hair to crimson red, the colour of blood to remind him of the ones he could not protect. He would also dye his cape red, a reminder that he had spilled much blood to fight for his guild to protect them, he had spilled much blood in his young years and dying his cape red would certainly be more than enough of a reminder that he had killed some to protect many, kill more to protect others. He went into Payon, still having that idea in mind he slept at the inn.

The next day Eloron had took out the dyestuff he was planning never to use, they were both red. First he grinded the dyestuff more and more and added more red herbs to it so that the red colour was as thick as blood and a colour of blood. He took the dye in one hand, and started to pour a bit of the red dye on his head, closing his eyes, ready for the punishment he had set for himself. Now his hair was as dark as blood and would be red, forever. Next Eloron went to a tailor and threw his cape to the tailor, paying him twenty-thousand zeny to dye his cape crimson red. Once it was done he walked and traveled again, always with two swords sheathed on his back, only used to protect himself from thugs and his shield, almost never left his right hand always reminding him of the weight he had to carry. The weight of failure was as heavy as his shield.

Since than, Eloron became hardened, his face had changed from the scars he had in battle and he had also became a cold, almost emotionless warrior that only fought to protect himself in his travels…

Two years has passed since that day, now Eloron was still looking for a way to avenge his friends but he knew he didn't have the manpower to do it alone, he knew he needed help from others in order to beat them, he knew he needed to find someone that would probably help him, perhaps it was time to visit his father, perhaps it was finally time to visit his father who had begun to led a guild. He started walking towards Prontera, hoping this visit would clear his mind.