So, this chapter takes place about fifteen years after the Prologue. The plot it starting to work its way out of my mind at this point, so bear with me if some of this is shaky. Please R&R and as always, enjoy.

Chapter 1

Light filtered in through the small hole people called a 'window'. The ray of light fell on the face of a boy, waking him. He looked like many other boys his age, but was taller and skinnier. His hair was light brown, and his eyes were red, which goes without saying, was uncommon. He lay on his sack for a moment, looking around at the closet he called his room. It was four bare, stone walls, and the only source of light was a slit in the wall that was actually a mistake made by missing the spot with brick mortar. The floor was much like the walls, solid stone, and the only thing on it, aside from the boy, was his bed. It was actually just a pile of hay with a burlap sack thrown over the top. The most extravagant thing in the room was the pillow he slept on. It was stuffed with the finest down money could buy, and was lined with the soft, white fur of a White Balvarine. His mother had told him that it was a gift from his father.

The boy didn't know who or where his father was, only that he was, in fact, a hero. He liked to image what it would be like to accompany his father on his adventures, slaying Hobbes and Balvarines, infiltrating bandit camps and saving the damsels in distress.

He was daydreaming when his mother rapped on the wooden door.

"Vade, get up! You need to get to work in five minutes. I'm off to the salon, dearie. Don't be late or Evan will have my head!" And with that, she was gone. Vade sighed. His mother had pretty much given him to Evan to work as his apprentice in the forge. It was tedious and grueling work, but Vade know it would help because blacksmiths made more money than many other occupations in this day in age.

He slowly stood up and wiped the sleep from his eyes, yawning. He pushed open the door and had to cover his eyes. The sunlight streamed in, unabated. His mother had left the door open. There was no reason to close it. No one would attempt to steal anything. There was nothing of value in his hut. He left, closing the door, and walked out into the streets of Bowerstone. He had lived here all his life, and had known no differently. He winded through the streets, paying no attention the others that were doing the same.

After a few minutes of pushing, jostling and shoving to get where he needed to, he made it to the forge, slightly out of breath. Evan's shadow loomed larger as he came forward from the back.

"You're late," he said, his Irish accent showing through. "Get your arse in the back and start working those bellows. We're behind as it is." He turned, beginning to hammer out a piece of red-hot steel. "You're mother will be hearing about this," he concluded, pounding the steel harder.

Vade sighed and went to the back and began working the bellows, his mind wandering after a few moment of the repetitive task. His days were normally done in this fashion. Evan would have him working the bellows for hours at a time, and during that period, Vade's mind would wander to other places and imagine what they'd be like. He had heard tales of Greatwood and its tall, towering trees, and how nice it felt to sit in their shade, and the fish you could catch in the streams that meandered through its pastures. He had heard stories of Witchwood and the terrible Balvarines that inhabited its depths, and the enormous arena they had built for heroes to display their power. He had heard rumors of the evil that lurked in Darkwood, and the numerous bandit factions that roamed its paths.

His daydreams were interrupted by Evan, who came back, an aggravated look plastered on his features.

"Two men up front who want to have a word with you, lad. Better hurry. One's got a damn big sword." Evan shooed him off the bellows and began working it himself, now not paying any attention to his apprentice.

Vade walked cautiously to the front. He bowed before the two men, humbled by their sizes.

"I was told you two gentlemen wished to speak with me," he said, his voice small and quiet.

"Good manners," one said, before adding "for a street rat." Vade was taken aback by the man's comment, but made no move to defend himself. Evan was correct. The man carried a sword twice his own size.

"Quiet, Rage. That's no way to be talking to a prospect," the second said. He too was large, but not as large as Rage. His skin was very dark, and he wore off-white armor. He held out a large, gloved hand. "I'm Thunder. This is Rage. Don't mind him. He's angry because he hasn't had is mornin' ale." Thunder chuckled, but Rage just brooded, casting glances over at the pub.

"What can I do for you," Vade asked, awed that Thunder would be here, talking to him. He had heard many tales about Thunder, and all of them were awesome.

"The Guild Master believes you may possess the abilities to become a Hero. We've been ordered to take you back to the guild and begin training immediately."
"Now wait just a god damned second," Evan cried, coming forward, leaving the bellows. "What the hell am I supposed to do without an apprentice?" he asked, openly angry.

"Back up, for starters," Rage said, also sporting an Irish accent. His hair and long beard may have been white, but he had a fighters spirit, and that was enough to calm Evan. "You'll be compensated greatly for your loss. Too much, in my opinion." He produced a sack of coins nearly the same size as Vade's head, and handed it to Evan, whose eyes grew three sized just from looking at it. He snatched it greedily and retreated to the back of the forge, slamming the door as he went.

"Well now," Thunder said, smiling at me, "we can take our leave."

"Wait," Vade said. "What about my mother? Will she know?"

"Who gives a fuck," Rage replied and took a swig from a flask that was hanging by his side.

"Rage, hush now," Thunder said, turning towards his companion. "That's no way to talk to a prospect. How many times must I tell you before it gets through that damn thick skull of yours?"

"At least once more," Rage answered, smiling. "Just like always." Thunder sighed.

"Your mother will be informed. Come, take my hand, and we'll leave this place."

"And praise Avo for that," Rage commented. Thunder decided to ignore him, and instead focused on the guild. A bright light engulfed the two, and Rage looked at them. "I'll meet you there. There's a cute broad in that hair place I'm goin' to go chat up," He said, slicking back his hair.

"That's my mo—"

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"—om," Vade concluded, suddenly realizing he was no longer in Bowerstone. He looked around and saw he was, in fact, in a stone entryway. Before him was a large, three-dimensional map of Albion set on a circular table. Behind that stood a large, stone stairway leading up to higher portions of the building, but the main feature was not really a feature at all. It was a man. He was tall and pale, with dark eyes and dark hair that seemed to match the dark plate mail armor he was wearing. He was hunched over the map, looking at a certain mountain peak, but was interrupted by Vade's outburst.

"Thunder, you made it back in one piece, I see," he said, standing upright.

"Aye, I did. I brought the prospect with me."

"I have a name, you know," Vade said, looking up at Thunder. "It's Vade. You'd know that if you happened to ask like a normal person." He thought he caught a small smile tugging at the corner of the man's lips, but Thunder wasn't as happy.

"And I'd have asked if I was told to. I was told to collect you and bring you here, isn't that right, Guild Master?" The words 'Guild Master' were dripping with contempt, and Vade could tell that Thunder didn't respect this man the way he should have, if he were truly the Guild Master.

"That is correct, Thunder," he replied, choosing to not hear the obvious anger in Thunder's voice. "He was just doing as told. Truth is, you should be angry at me, although I already know your name, Vade," he said, a smile on his face. "I am Reaper, the Guild Master. Come with me, I'll show you to your quarters. I'm sure you'll enjoy your time here."

And with that, Reaper led Vade up the large, stone staircase, following the same path he had trod when Maze had taken him to his room.