Me: Okay, I tried to stick with the happenings that were actually occurring at the time, so forgive me if I am off a little bit. Ulrich, which is another way to spell Ulric, means "Wolf Power". Uh… okay, disclaimer is done, and I shall now commence the…

Ael: What about the way you-

Me: Yes, I use some old English in here. You may now laugh when I use the word "saucy", because it means impetuous… or something like that. I blame Shakespeare.

Ael: And about the…

Me: Not now! In later chapters!

--

Chapter the Second

14 years later…

May the Eighteenth, 1496 C.E.

A pair of dark green eyes focused intently on the target. It was a tree, with a circular piece of wood that was painted in a deformed bulls-eye, with four "legs" sticking out at angles, three at the bottom of the bulls-eye and one going straight up on the top if the bulls-eye. Making the bow line taught, she pulled the bowstring back before letting the arrow sail through the air and landing it directly in the center of the bulls-eye. Giving one satisfied smile, Aelita strode to the arrow and gently pulled it out of the target before putting the arrow back into her quiver. The last few years of her life were about the same, boring routine about sword fighting and using bows and arrows, and learning about all sorts of weapons, such as the mace and the morning star.

Yawning, she walked over to a nearby lake, taking off the boots and letting the water cool off her exhausted feet. She had been standing all day practicing her arrow shooting for what felt like the billionth time this month. She felt her hand move subconsciously to Watercress, a blue tinged double-edged sword that was given to her shortly after her ninth birthday. Ever since then, she had been fascinated with it, obsessing over its beauty and the way that it was made. Ever since she had it in her sheath, she always felt drawn to the water, as if it had some strong magnetic pull opposite to hers.

Aelita took the time to examine her reflection in the still waters of the lake. It had been 14 years, and she had grown quite considerably in her knowledge and wisdom. Although she was not allowed to read books or attend school because of her gender, Aelita had "borrowed" some books from where the boys were taught, teaching herself to read and write in secret. Ever since then, she was always hungry for information, pouring over the books and "devouring" one after another. When she was done with the books, she learned how to stealthily replace the books back on the shelves where they were stored, without being caught.

Aelita blinked, and looked closer to the lake water, hungrily searching for the essence deep inside her, the essence that the books stated that there was a spiritual self in people. She was discouraged that she could not see it yet, and no matter how she tried, she could not see her inner self. Several strands of long, unusually colored pink hair brushed against her cheek. She brushed them back, and absentmindedly stroked it while thinking.

Her ears picked up a sound of something scurrying in the vegetation up ahead. She focused her eyes, catching the brown cloth that flicked as the figure turned and ran back in the other direction. Aelita gave a wry smile. It was probably the nice boy who liked her, but was afraid to say anything about it. Jeremiah Belpois… or what he liked to call himself, Jeremie. Aelita was nicknamed the Elfin Princess of the Forest, as she could hear just about anything, see things clearly both near and far away, and could shoot a bow and arrow precisely. Aelita let these thoughts flow over her as the pond water slowly went by, and then she pulled her feet out of the water, put her boots back on, and went back home for the day. Perhaps she could unlock the secret of this mysterious blade.

--

Jeremie ran back all the way home. 'Had she seen me?' he thought to himself, immediately dismissing the thought as her nickname made its way back into his head. 'Yes, milady did saw me…' Over the rolling plains he flew, feeling the long grass underneath his bare feet. Sure, he could have worn the wrappings, but he chose not to, in order to be stealthy. He didn't mean to spy on her; he just wanted to watch the fishes in the lake, to see their shimmering scales as he would try to catch them. However, once he heard the familiar thwack of arrow against board, he became curious.

He had never really seen her using weapons for attacking and defending, and was very curious to see what she could do. Jeremie was very surprised at what he saw. Sure, he did see her practicing one time or another, but she was getting good at it. He thought of going up to her and asking on lessons, but decided not to, and just to get out of the situation quickly by running. So here he was, running over the plains, to get back to his home, which was coming up in a short distance. It wasn't exactly the home he lived in, as it was his mentor's house, but he thought he could call it home, as there was a home-y look to it, and not just weapons hung everywhere on the walls.

He found himself in the middle-sized building. It was not a large home, but just right for him. He went over to his family crest, which he had brought from the home he was in before he was forcibly taken to be a squire for a knight, becoming one in a few years himself. He looked over the sword his father had used in the many battles concerning Lyokonis. Recently, his father had came home as a defeated man; Lyokonis had fell to Digitropolis. The soldiers weren't to blame though, it was Lord Xavier with a powerful and mystical sword that caused many of the brave soldiers to fall. They had been revolting against Digitropolis, as a last counter attack to the tyranny of Lord Xavier, but they had failed miserably. Xavier would move his forces into Lyokonis to occupy their area and restore "peace" before setting out to conquer other lands and territories.

Jeremie went over to Dragon-breath, gazing over the red-tinted metal, which glinted in the sunlight that was pouring through the open window. Slowly, carefully, he picked up the sword by its hilt, and laid it on his hand with the dull part of the blade. His father always said that he would inherit it someday, and now was the time that he was going to own it. Jeremie had been serving as a squire to a knight for years. In just two more mere years, he would be knighted into either the army of the Schaeffers or to Lord Xavier's forces. Jeremie surely did not want to become part of Lord Xavier's army. Just the thought of it made him wish he could battle against him even more and take back the lands which were rightfully theirs.

Jeremie went to his quarters, still holding the sword gently, but firmly, got a rag and started polishing the sword and the armor from his knight mentor. In the morrow, his mentor would joust with another knight, and they would battle to see who had the quicker wits than the other. Looking at the now brightly shining metal before him, Jeremie let out a deep sign before placing the armor on its stand in his room, all the while thinking of his father. His father had been drafted into Lord Xavier's forces right after his defeat, and could not pass down the sword to him personally. Jeremie gripped the sword tighter, and felt it warm up in response, and the red tint of the sword got brighter- a peculiar thing to do for a seemingly normal blade. Shrugging it off, he placed the blade onto its mounted stand on the wall of his living quarters. Once his hand left the sword, the tint slowly faded to the red it was before Jeremie touched it. Jeremie scratched his head, and thought that the Gods were playing tricks on his mind again.

--

"Odysseus! Odysseus! Where art thou, thou saucy knave?" William was calling from the second floor of Lyokonis's tavern.

"Coming, Sir Dunbar" Odysseus called sarcastically from above.

William rolled his eyes. He knew that the only reason Odysseus agreed to work here was for the golden coins to support his family, and not to actually work. If the kid would actually work, then he would actually get paid more. William glanced over his swarm of customers, all hanging out in one part of the tavern, or another. There was one person whom William noticed easily. It was Ulrich Wolves-bane Stern, a master at swordplay and battling against those twice his size- if they had severely annoyed him, of course. He was never known to attack an innocent person, who had only just bumped into him a little. William could almost compare with the guy. It was like being alone in a sea of fishes while the waters of life rush by you, barely touching you as the stones of circumstances were cast into the ever-flowing water.

THUMP!

Odysseus sprang from the last of the stone steps onto the ground, straightening up and raising his hands above his head in mock triumph. William saw Ulrich shake his head, almost in disbelief, toss the amount that was due on the table, and hastily left the tavern. Odysseus looked at William, as he too, shook his head at him, and gave him a damp rag, so that he may clean off the messes left by the other customers.

Odysseus took it with a quick jerk, as if the rag was going to leap away at any moment, and began roughly swabbing the tables, which were no more than piles of wood stacked on top of each other to resemble something like a table. Odysseus muttered angrily about how he didn't get any excitement, and was forced to work in this dingy place for little pay, even though he had tried to work a little, and not throw down the towel, so to speak and leave the workplace in search of the adventure he had always craved.

Although he was sort of repelled by Ulrich's behavior toward life, in general, Odysseus could not help but admire his skills and undertaking of the world that he lived in, especially since Lord Xavier took over, it had made people's lives more difficult. Odysseus wanted to try and train under him someday, but whenever he seemed to get to him, Ulrich always seemed to disappear with a billow of his dark green, ankle-length hooded cloak. Odysseus had made his own hooded cloak too, in his spare time. It was not what people would call majestic, but it would suffice for the time being, until he could train under Ulrich.

Odysseus had heard of a tale of the six legendary swords, each holding a terrible power of their own. Odysseus dreamed of having one, as they each had a special ability to them, something that other, normal blades could not do. Noticing that he was wearing the wood out, Odysseus quickly pulled the rag up, and dunked it into a metal bucket of dirty, dishwasher-gray water before starting on the next table.

Soon, it was time for the few precious minutes he had for break, since he always seemed to be slacking in his work. Odysseus saw a familiar green cloak outside of the tavern, and saw its occupant moving down the street. Odysseus chased down the wearer, until he tugged on the cloak a little, not enough to jerk the hood off of the figure, but just enough so that the occupant knew that somebody wanted their attention. Silently, the figure turned around to look at the person who did that, but when Odd saw the occupant's face, he was discouraged. Instead of finding Ulrich, he had accidentally tugged on the hem of a cloak of a Lady.

The Lady saw him discouraged, and immediately help him, introducing herself as Lady Yumi, a traveler of all sorts. Odysseus, thinking quickly, told her that he was trying to find Ulrich Wolves-bane Stern, and needed help finding him. Yumi, recognizing the name, gently led Odysseus to a small, grey-stone building outside of the outskirts of the village. Hesitantly, Odysseus reached his hand up to knock, before hastily retracting it before his hand could hit the door. Yumi, who was watching him, gave him a strange look before knocking on the heavy wooden door, Odysseus wincing every time her knuckles hit the wood, for fear of the reaction he would get once Ulrich opened the door.

The door slightly opened, dark brown eyes shining dimly in the dark, looking at both of them before recognizing one, fully opening the door to receive both of them. Ulrich stared at Odysseus incredulously, all the while thinking what was he doing here, so far away from his home and workplace. Just before Ulrich could open his mouth, Odysseus spoke, desperation is his voice.

"I beseech thee, Ulrich of the woods, to train a humble peasant-lad such as myself. I seek adventure and your training!"

"Pray, thee, noble creature, what is your name?"

"Odysseus is what I go by, Sir, but you may call me Odd."

"Well, noble Odysseus let us embark on our journey of skills and wisdom together. I trust that you have met serene Yumi?"

"Yes sir, she is the one that guided me here."

"Very well, noble Odysseus. We shall embark on our journey on the morrow. You may take some bread before you depart home to tell the news to your people. I shall make the preparations for you here, and will start construction on a smaller hut adjacent to mines."

And Odysseus, with shining brown eyes declared

"Sir Ulrich, (I) pray thee that thou shall teach thee the finer skills of wielding a blade"

And Ulrich, bearing his sword of the Ages, proclaimed as he tapped Odysseus on the shoulder with the blunt of the sword

"I proclaim thee an apprentice to the craft of sword play. Odysseus, I shall teach you everything I know."

With this confirmation of his teaching, Odysseus went back to his home, skipping the rest of his day's work in favor of telling his family that he was about to embark on a quest, promising to visit often, and to pack what little belongings he had in a grain sack. He then went to his living quarter to rest, and to prepare for the journey he was about to undertake. Odysseus, however, could not rest, excitement pumping in his veins, and keeping his mind at work. He finally got to sleep a little after the stroke of midnight, dreaming of becoming the greatest warrior ever known in the land of Lyokonis.

--

Done, done, and done! Okay, maybe I have been reading too much Odysseus also, but I thought it was a good name for Odd, since it did sound like it had Odd in there. Anyway, I know I rushed through this, and the format looks weird towards the end, but I was experimenting with the format for this story with the format Homer uses for the Odyssey. "Athena, the owl-eyed Goddess replied…" and then her talking. Maybe this didn't go over too well, but I like it!

~Commando Wolf