"Where am I?" a young elf whispered, as he found himself face down in the muddy ground of a dark forest. He rose to his knees and wiped the mud from his face, using what had used to be a fine cloth adornment. Now it was worn and tattered, as if it had not been removed for several weeks. On his chest was a crest that contained a gryphon encircled by branches of a strange tree. As he rose, he also noticed a silver necklace. On it hung a pendent of a dragon, rearing and spitting fire. "What…" he began to ask himself. Before the words could leave his lips, an arrow landed near him.
Quickly rising to his feet, he heard in the distance, "There he is." The elf remained where he was and his eyes searched in all directions. As keen as his elf eyes and ears were, he sensed nothing. A rustle came from leaves behind him. He turned. Nothing but the wind. He turned back, and was suddenly face to face with another elf. This one seemed much older, but in this case, that only meant more skilled. He was dressed similarly but his fine clothes were still fine. "You did not think you could hide from me forever, did you?" he said, drawing his sword. "Oh, how rude of me, I have yet to introduce myself. I am Decsio. I like to know who I kill, so what shall I call you?" The young elf did not speak. "Such insolence! Oh well, it does not matter, you shall be dead soon." Decsio quickly swung his curved blade across the young elf's chest.
The young elf again found himself in the mud. Decsio took out a rag to wipe his blade clean, but there was no blood. "What is this?" He reached for the young elf, and pulled him back to his feet. Beneath the fine garments lay a tightly threaded mail of mythril. "Impressive, but it shall not protect your head!" Again he swung his curved blade, but this time the strike was stopped. The young elf drew a sword of his own, much the same as Decsio's, and blocked without even thinking, without even knowing. "So you do have some skill left in you." Decsio attacked several more times with blows that would have broken through most people, but the young elf blocked with ease.
For the young elf fighting seemed an instinct, like a second nature he had never known. The young elf landed a blow on Decsio. The blood slowly dripped down Decsio's arm. "I am yet again impressed," he said, pulling out another sword identical to his first, and beginning to attack furiously. Even with only one weapon Decsio was a skilled fighter, but with two, he was formidable. The young elf's skill seemed to increase along with Decsio's. Within a minute, the young elf landed another blow. This one to Decsio's face. Decsio fell back, and as he did, three more elven fighters fell from the trees. The young elf dispatched each, yet he did not injure any more than a cut or a scratch. When all four were on the ground, the young elf jumped to the nearest branch and ran along the treetops.
Decsio got back to his feet, and his three companions soon did the same. "Do we follow?" one asked.
"No, there has been someone sent to find him for us," he took out his rag and wiped the blood from his right cheek, and then tied it around his left arm.
When he was satisfied that he was far enough away, the young elf stopped and fell back to the ground. The crest across his chest had been cut in two. He tore off his garment and was left with only his pants, the shirt of mail, and the pendant. When he threw the clothing down, a piece of paper fell from one of the pockets. It read one word "Torian." He reflected on what had just happened, wondering how he knew any fighting techniques. He pulled his sword out again and, in the process, found that he also carried a quiver, bow, and arrows. Where had they come from?
The sun began to set, and he saw far through the trees a high cliff of the mountain range that marked the end of the forest. At the base of this cliff, there was a cave that flickered with light, and a steady stream of smoke came from it. He thought, Is there someone there that can tell me where I am? That is where he headed to.
Before he reached his destination, he came across a stream and saw his reflection. His face was still covered in mud that now had begun to dry, but his long blonde hair was mostly clean. Before he approached the cave, he cleaned his face, and cleaned the blood from his sword. He did not want these people to know he had come from a battle. When he was content with his appearance, he continued to the entrance of the cave. It was small, just barely large enough for him to enter. The fire which had led him here was now greatly dimmed, but he did not need the light, he could see well enough in the dark. He reached the fire, which now barely burned more than the embers.
Something caught his attention behind, and before he could think, he withdrew his sword and blocked a golden scepter. In a blast of energy, his sword was launched from his hand. "Who are you? You cannot be here." It was a human, a woman. She was beautiful; her beauty surpassed even that of some elves, which was especially rare. She was dressed in a flowing gown of white and gold, and wore a circlet of ivy. Still pointing the staff to the elf, she said, "My master will not allow you to stay." The staff then began to glow, and she finally saw who was before her. "You are an elf?" she asked inquisitively, then more sternly, "Who-who are you, what are you doing here?"
The elf answered, "To be honest, I am not sure who, or even where I am. I woke up not three hours ago. I was actually hoping you could tell me where I am."
"You honestly do not know?" she inquired with a puzzled look. "You are at the northern border of the forest Mothadar. This place belongs to your kin, the elves. Living here, I should have been killed long ago, but my master protects me. Now you must leave, before I make you nothing more than a memory."
This was a fight he knew he would not easily win, if he even could. He picked his blade from the ground, sheathed it, and left the cave. As he exited the cave, the fighters that had accompanied Decsio were waiting for him. "So this is what you have been up to, aiding a human. You may call me Fethrion, and I shall enjoy killing you, but not before your precious human dies." The other two had begun to run into the cave, while Fethrion drew his sword. The elf turned and quickly fired an arrow. It landed in the leg of one of the two fighters and he was unable to move. Seemingly without thought, the elf dropped the bow and drew the sword just in time to block an attack from Fethrion. He was prepared for this and stabbed a dagger to the elf's thigh. With ease, the elf caught his hand, and forced him to drop the dagger. It was not long before Fethrion succumbed to the elf. The elf was then able to kick Fethrion to the ground. He picked up the dagger and drove it into Fethrion's shoulder.
"Why are you after me?" the elf asked, though no answer came, for just then a blast of white energy shot from the cave, carrying the other two fighters, one after the other. The able one collected himself and darted off into the wood, but the other remained on the ground, the arrow still in his leg. The human ran out with her scepter ready and shot an arrow of fire right at the elf fighter's head. She then joined the young elf over Fethrion and prepared another shot. "No, I need him," the young elf pled, but it was too late, she had already fired.
"You will have put me and my master in danger. Come with me, he will decide your fate," the woman demanded. He had no room to argue, for he knew if he did not go, he would die there. So he picked up his bow, recovered his arrow and sword, and followed her into the cave. "First, what should I call you if you do not know your name?"
"Call me…Torian." The elf did not know what else to say.
"You may call me Floria." She raised her staff and it emitted a white glow that lit their path. The foremost part of the cave was narrow, and filled with pillars and stalagmites. The cave opened wider, and the walls became rounded out and smooth. Soon they entered a large cavern adorned with jewels, gems, and many riches and rarities. In the center lay a large pile of gold and precious gems, and on the top lay a great green rock, covered with rough edges. "My master," Floria said, kneeling before it.
A powerful, yet calming voice echoed through the chamber, "Yes, my child. I know of what transpired this night. Do not fret; we are in no danger." A great flame emerged from behind the rock, lighting a stream of oil that surrounded the room. Torian noticed the rock was moving slightly, as if breathing. Suddenly a great tail whipped around from behind the rock which then began to move back and forth. Soon two enormous wings unfolded and legs appeared from beneath it, propping itself up. As the wing moved behind it, a reptilian head was revealed.
"You are an Earth Dragon," Torian said stepping back. In the light, the roughness of the rock turned to scales that shown brightly, colors of green and yellow, and his breast was covered with gems and stones of every kind, leaving none of its soft underbelly exposed.
"That I am, young elf," the earth dragon confirmed. "Though you are much older than my favorite here, I have lived many times that of your life. Floria believes that I should…dispose…of you. She believes you have put us in great harm. Forgive her, I love her dearly, but she is young and impulsive." The dragon turned to her, "Floria, get our guest something to wear, something to cover that wonderful mythril he is wearing." She did as she was told, and found him a fine shirt to cover him. Not as fine as what Torian had originally been wearing, but he was not about to complain. "I might have tried to take that from you, had I not already had some myself. Mythril is hard to come by, but when you have lived as long as I, you find it easier to acquire," the large reptile smiled as he quietly laughed to himself. "But do not get me wrong, I have never stolen anything; unlike some of my brethren, I would have found a more honest way of receiving what I desire." The dragon looks over Torian, paying particular attention to the hilt of his sword. "We have not been properly introduced, you may call me Gexion the Jade, and you are?"
"I go by Torian," he replied. Gexion gave a bellowing roar and fire spouted from his mouth.
"I should have known," the dragon roared, "Floria, look at his sword. The hilt is a gryphon, the symbol of the house of Malion." The dragon slashed a claw at Torian, but he jumped back just in time. Torian ran back toward the cave's entrance, knowing all too well that he was no match for a dragon. Gexion called, "Your people shall never succeed." Floria chased after him. She caught up to him near the entrance and cast an ice wall to block the way. Torian was able to jump through just before it closed. She had trapped herself inside, and it would take some time for that ice to melt. Torian could go no further north, so he turned south to find himself.
Upon exiting the cave, Torian noticed that the sun had fully set. The forest was a dangerous place after dark. Because he was an elf, he could still see a distance in the darkest places, but there were still creatures that could see more. Torian began his journey south, not going by any trails he came across, but through the dense underbrush on the forest floor. With great agility, he forged his own path through the forest, jumping over large roots, gliding through branches and vines. He left a path so light that even the best trackers in the world would lose the trail before long.
After several hours, he came to the end of the forest and stood before a vast clearing. The full moon lit the area well, but was already descending toward the horizon. It would be daytime soon and those following him may again attack, so he needed to find a place to hide. He thought to hide in the forest for the day, but the dragon had already felt his presence and could easily find him again if he stayed too close. He had no choice but to continue his journey south.
Torian had gotten no further than five steps from the forest when he heard someone cry from deep within, "Arion." He turned, but did not see anyone. He continued on his path, and he then heard the cry of a falcon. He looked to the sky to see the bird diving toward him. His first thought was to draw his sword, but he calmed himself and thought better of it. If this bird were a spy, it would not have appeared before him. Torian was right; he held out his arm and the falcon landed gently. "Arion, it is you," the bird repeated. "Master, I am so glad I have found you. There have been assassins hired to kill you. They were instructed to retrieve the medallion, but it seems I got to you first."
There were many questions that were running through his head, but first he decided to correct the bird. "No, I have already encountered these assassins. Two of them are dead, but two still remain. The leader is called Decsio. I have injured him. I am afraid that I do not remember you, or even myself. You say that my real name is Arion?"
"Oh my dear master, how unfortunate. Your real name you have never told to anyone, but Arion is the title you go by." The falcon looked somber, "One's name is the only real power anyone ever has. Your identity is something no one can take away from you. It seems though, that you can lose it. You said after this mission we would retire and you would tell me your name, but now it looks as though neither will happen."
"What mission?" Arion asked.
"Normally we would work together, but this time you said you had to do this alone. So you never told me what it was. All I know is that the medallion is the key." The look in the bird's eyes grew darker, "I must tell you, Tesino sent me to find you. He said I was to call you home, and say the mission was canceled, but then I found out about the assassination plot. I cannot be sure he has anything to do with it, but it seems suspicious, so I came to warn you. But I must leave. I cannot let them know that I found you. I will do what I can to find out more about the medallion and why it is wanted so badly." The falcon raised his wings to lift off, but he suddenly stopped and said, "You should head east to the town Nogorath, find the elf Benathor. He is a friend of ours. And if you find yourself in trouble, call out 'Felino Malion.' Good bye Arion," and with that the falcon lifted off his arm and rose into the air.
"Wait," Arion called, "what shall I call you?"
"Noira. We are opposites, and kindred spirits." Then he disappeared into the distance.
"Your pet has been a great help to us," A voice called from the wood. Decsio stepped out from the trees; the cut on his face still fresh but beginning to heal and his arm was bandaged. He no longer wore noble garments, but wore mail made of mythril, much the same as Arion's. "Do you like my new armor? It was a gift from the high court, to aid in your capture. But with my previous unfortunate failure he has allowed me to take you, dead or alive. You destroyed my subordinates easily enough, but I will not underestimate you again." He reached behind him to draw his sword, but suddenly stopped. "No, I have a better idea." He put his hand to his mouth and blew a sharp whistle that echoed for a moment and disappeared. "Fedics," he then called. There was a brief silence followed by a great crashing deep in the forest. Decsio stood calmly, smiling as if there was nothing happening. Behind him a monstrous creature suddenly broke through the trees as though they were twigs and leapt over him, crashing into Arion.
Blinking a few times, Arion looked before him to see a towering beast. It stood nearly ten feet tall, not including the large bull-like horns that adorned its head. The creature's face was gruesome and menacing and its huge frame made it easy to tell that it could break most men it encountered with minimal effort. In its arms it carried a great axe, large enough to cut through the mightiest tree in one stroke. Fedics snorted and growled as it dug its hoof into the ground, preparing to charge again. He let out a chilling howl as he charged, raising his axe high into the air. As the axe fell, Arion jumped back, returning to his feet and dodging the minotaur's strike. The creature looked to where its axe fell, and, finding nothing, raised his axe and roared in anger. Arion saw this opening, drew his sword, and struck at the minotaur's chest. His sword slashed, and cut deep into the creature's chest. Fedics howled in pain, and again tried to strike at the elf. The minotaur stuck blindly, but the power and size of the weapon made dodging a difficult task for Arion.
After a couple more successful strikes from Arion, the minotaur finally landed a blow with the butt of his axe. Arion flew several feet back before landing hard onto the ground. He slowly climbed back to his feet and wiped a small amount of blood from his mouth. Before he fully regained himself, the minotaur charged again, this time with Decsio by his side, both swords drawn. They both struck, Arion dodging the axe and deflecting the swords; but he was not able to sustain it for long. Decsio's blade crashed into Arion's chest pushing him back slightly and opening him up for the Minotaur's mighty fist. Right where the sword hit, the minotaur punched and again threw Arion into the open field.
Arion stood up once more, slower still than the last time. He was panting and straining to breathe, yet he still readied his sword and prepared for their next attack. Fedics was in front and ran full force at Arion, with Decsio casually following behind, a smug smile on his face. Arion did not wait this time. He charged the minotaur. It did not faze the creature, he simply raised its axe in preparation for its next attack, but as he did Arion leapt for the axe, and grabbed the tip of wood that held the blade. He let the minotaur raise him, and jumped from the creature down to Decsio. Arion's blade fell on target, but Decsio jumped to the side just in time, and began the strike. Arion was ready, easily deflecting all of the blows. With a swift kick, he threw Decsio back, and then jumping back over the minotaur, who had turned and charged with its horns near the ground. Arion was able to clear over the beast easily and let it continue its charge, now at Decsio.
Decsio tried to save himself, but it was too late; Fedics had reached him and dug his horns into Decsio's chest. Not recognizing the target, Fedics lifted Decsio into the air and threw him back. He landed at Arion's feet. The mythril had saved his life, but Decsio was still badly injured. As he stood, he found a sword at his neck. Arion led him to his feet while keeping the sword to his neck. The minotaur turned and charged again. "Call off your beast," Arion commanded, "or you will no longer have a head with which to do so."
Decsio nodded slightly. "Fedics," he shouted. "We have lost this battle, my friend, halt your attack." The minotaur stopped immediately, walked to Decsio's side and dropped his axe to the ground.
"I want you to deliver a message for me," Arion said. "I want you to tell your employer that I will seek him out soon enough, and I will bring the medallion with me. But if I find that you are following me again, I will make sure this medallion finds its way to the bottom of the sea." He pulled his sword away and turned east. "I suggest you leave now," he stated flatly and with that, he began to walk.
"Decsio," the minotaur growled, "shall we continue the attack?"
"No, my friend," Decsio responded, "today was not our day to win. Apparently we have greatly underestimated him. We shall return to Tolathorn and tell Tesino what has happened, and we shall wait for him there." The sky started to turn red as Decsio turned north and began to walk. Fedics waited a moment, watching Arion as he walked, before he picked up his axe and followed a step behind Decsio.