A Blade Unbound

by The Chaos Phoenix

A young man named Kadan Bataar has recently come to kuoh academy to learn and hopefully grow. Haunted by dreams that tells him a story, or perhaps maybe it is something more?

1. Chapter 1

"We stand on the edge of a knife; at the end it lays destiny. But on both sides lies oblivion at the hands of those who would see us broken and bound. But I swear on old night that we shall follow our lord until the end, we are his sword, his will made manifest. Not anyone else's." - Unknown

The roaring sounds of gunfire surrounded him, it was familiar, and normally when he was immersed in such a thing, there should have been a deep and joyous laughter as he and his brother made war. But here in one of their sanctuaries, where swords were sheathed, and muzzles lowered. Where deeds and honors shared, and the more noble pursuits enjoyed. Blood was only shed either in the sparing pits or if worse had come then two brothers' old grievances had opened like old wounds.

But now brothers were fighting each other in mortal combat. Blades locked; bullets were flying. Why had such a thing happened. What venom had taken hold of their hearts and twisted their minds into such treachery? He did not know, and he while for some reason, fear felt foreign to him. There was something similar to it now. It seemed that the fools didn`t fully know themselves. He shook his head. These were thoughts to ruminate over later, when order was restored. When HE would come back. Who was HE? I cannot recall, or do I even know? Either way there was still one fact that was as true and limitless as the stars, when HE returned, all would be clear.

It was after these thoughts had flashed through his mind did, he realize that he was now standing atop a dais, simple yet opulent. On the opposite side stood another figure. Another brother he felt. One who held respect and authority, yet here he was. Standing against this figure and worse yet raising his sword to him. The other looked towards him and seemed to shout something, but the sounds of death and destruction blocked out whitherever he was trying to say. In response My arm drew my blade from its scabbard, oh, I had a blade. It was long and elegant, and it ended in a slight curve. The cross guard was stylized in the shape of eagle spreading its wings. On its hilt he felt a button and when pressed there was a sharp snap and hiss that came from the blade, now wreathed in a crimson glow. Before I knew what was happening, I was rushing forwards with my blade raised in a setup for a downward strike on the figure. He rushed towards me, his blade lowered and prepared to meet mine. Then the two blades locked in a struggle, both striving for dominance, besides the loud clang of the two blades meeting, there were sparks flying between where they made contact. The blades in their electric crimson sheen.

It wasn't long before we broke apart and began to circle each other. I yelled something at the figure and I'm sure that he had responded. But like before I had heard nothing but the chaotic cacophony of battle within the enclosed environment that we found ourselves fighting in. And the dance continued, for that is what it could only be described as. A dance, we traded blows at a pace that would leave anyone lost and confused at how the battle was being conducted. But it was clear to him and the others, this was their natural state, this was in their blood and soul, yet it was tainted still. No joy was taken from each masterful blade stroke from his enemy only to be blocked by and equally as graceful downward swing to stop said swipe. And it continued like this, around the dais they fought. It was like a diorama where they were at the center, and they were surrounded by a hailstorm of light and smoke.

Even as the duel progressed, they exchanged words or at least that is what was happening. In all honesty he didn't know how long they were fighting or how long this travesty was. But it needed to end that he knew. So with a burst of strength and effort he brought his blade back and lunged forward hoping to land at least a close blow to his wayward compatriot's heart to prove that he would not back down from his stance or his oaths, but before he could land the blow there was a flash of blue and white and all he knew was agony.

Kadan woke with a start, he was drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. This dream was different, or maybe it wasn't. He had been having these strange dreams for years. For as long as he could remember, they plagued him. Some nights he would be blessed with sweet oblivion and not have to suffer the strange and horrid visions. But they were sadly in the minority of nights that he went through. Where they originated from eluded him and his parents had said that he was simply too "imaginative" for his own good or that they would go with time. Seventeen and a half years into his life and yet they persisted.

He shook his head trying to clear his mind and calm his beating heart. The adrenalin that was pumping through his veins left him in a state of confusion and anxiety, he wanted to act, to do something, and yet what could he do? There was nothing psychically that he would do to change the current state of his body and mind. So, he took a deep breath and closed his hands before opening them. He repeated the action and timed it to the same time when he took his breathe. After a minute or so he could finally try and focus on what he had seen, and yet it was already beginning to fade. The dreams always faded when he awoke, it was a facet of them that he had grown to accept. But in some small mercy he tended to at least recall something. Be it a particular sound or sight, there were even times when a smell or taste would become that night's particular "gift". But it was the rarest one that he dreaded the most.

It was when he would remember a psychical feeling. There was a time when a particular attack struck his breast in one battle or another, and when he awoke, he felt the searing pain in the same spot. There was no mark or anything to indicate that he took a blow. But they always faded too. With his heart calmed and mind focused he looked at his surroundings. It was a simple room, he laid in his queen-sized bed in the middle of the room with a desk to the side. Off to the left of the door was his dresser where he kept his clothing. To the opposite side of the door was a window with a view of the streets below. The rest of the aesthetic was rather bland, with gray walls and a white trim and doors.

Kadan got up and walked to the dressed, he opened to drawers and gathered his clothing for the day. which consisted of his undergarments, and uniform. It was a Monday and it was the third week into the semester and he needed to catch up for the time. He had only been in the apartment for about six days, and while he did not have much when it came to possessions, he still needed to get used to the area and know where to go for things such as food, law enforcement if it was ever needed, and of course where the academy was. It would do no good if he were to try and attend a new school and not know where to even go. The joke aide he took a deep breath and thought about what he did have. There was the small amount of clothes and then the school supplies that he would need. Books, pencils, pens, and the others things. He even had a TV, while nothing nice or new, it worked and got what he needed.

He was thankful for it all. He had lost his parents long ago in a fire; he couldn't remember much of his life before the fire but that it had been where he could start some form of recollection. He was standing outside his home as it burned, the fire fighters were trying to control the inferno, but it was all in vain. It wasn't long before the roof fell in and blocked them from reaching his parents who were further back, and it wasn't long before the rest of the house was consumed by the ravenous flames. It was then that the authorities took him in, they questioned him on what he could remember on what had happened and if he knew of any relatives, for it seemed that they could not track down anyone who shared a relation that was alive, and he had answered no. With such a thing facing them he was sent into the adoptive homes. For two years he went in and out of homes and orphanages due to either financial reasons or for abuse having taken place. And that was his life for the longest of times, and there was little he could do to change such things. Running had come to him many a time and yet what point was there in that option? At least he had a roof and food, besides he was not bound here. He could leave if he wished then he would. It was a choice and one that was always open. So, with that in mind he let time pass and waited to see what time would bring to him.

And soon his patience would be rewarded. It was in an orphanage that things changed. He was sitting in the dorm room reading one of the few books that they could provide, and while it had hampered his reading ability he would not stop trying. He would go and play with the other kids from time to time, though it was sparse due to it seeming that the children avoided him at certain points, even the adults would become somewhat discomforted in his presence. But for them it would last not too long. He struggled to adapt to the strange tides of fortune that seemed to affect his social life, to be an outsider, a stranger who should be a friend, if not an acquaintance. But that was for another time. On that day there was a change in the air, which for so long had a lingering sense of malaise. But now it was broken.

It wasn't long into the morning when we had heard the knock on the door, the owners went to answer and were met with a sigh. Though we children could not see, the stranger was apparently a sight to behold if the sight of confusion and admiration that adorned their faces was anything to go by. We were ushered into our dorms where we shared in groups of two. My roommate was an interesting child, he had black hair and gleam in his eyes that made me uncomfortable. It was the look of pure ambition and a budding pride that would leave the Greeks of old in shame. He was recent to this orphanage and from what he had told me, he had recently come from a remote village. Which wouldn't surprise me. It is better said that most in such environments are never ready for the responsibility of a child with the issues they face themselves. He even said that they had tried to sell him before the authorities took him away. It wasn't long before our door opened and we waited for one of our names to be called. If anything, I had thought his name would have been the one selected, and yet mine was called.

I walked out and looked behind me, the boy just smiled and waved. I do not know how he truly felt. Once escorted to a room with a pair of chairs in it was, I seated. This room was used for those looking to adopt to talk to the potential children that they could take. It was when I looked that I understood the confusion and aw that the owners had. He looked young but strong, perhaps in his early thirties, he was also tall, very tall. But it wasn't anything to be concerned over though, for he was still filled out well. He had an easy-going grin and an air of peace and calm about himself. He was a foreigner to the area though. For his completion was that of difference to the locals. He looked at me when I sat down and felt his eyes bore into mine, everything I was or felt was laid bare before him. That was what I felt after our gaze met. I quickly averted mine, as to not experience such a thing again. He chuckled before he began to talk to me, and soon the rest was history.

He had taken me in, said that I had a spark that he wished to see grow and blossom. It made little sense but the Benefactor was ever enigmatic. It was a strange title in which he preferred to be called, even when I was adopted his name was never heard or at least I had never heard it. He taught me many things, such as reading, writing, and the other higher learnings. I enjoyed that time, but it was soon to change when his schedule proved too much for him to take a child along. So, with that in mind he sent me to the nearest school that could provide the education that was up to his standard. It was a odd decision in all honesty when I was informed. It wasn't far from where we were located, it was on an island that I had learned to be Japan, and that it was located in the town of Kuoh. And coincidentally enough it was a former all-girls school turned co-ed called Kuoh Academy. He couldn't help but snort, the naming wasn't something that credited its founder's creativity. But the Benefactor had said that it would be up to his standards. And he had no reason to doubt the Benefactor.

Kaden went to the restroom and quickly took a shower so that he could be ready in time, while washing he was once more drawn back to the dream from last night. The other warrior stood out, when he dreamed it was never clear. The sounds and shapes were solid but also faded in a sense. It was like looking through a Lense to old and worn to properly perform its function. What was he trying to say? What was the message? And what had he even said? This had bothered him; he could hear the battle cries and cascading sounds of war within the dreams but never any words. And now it was finally beginning to leave him worried as to why that was. But it was time to banish these intrusions once more as to focus on school. And was he ever so excited, to work with some others who were not those he knew. And those were truly few people. There was of course the Benefactor, a friend of the Benefactor a somber man who kept to himself, but he too radiated a similar if lesser feeling to that of the Benefactors presence.

There were others but they were far and few in-between. After finishing his shower Kadan put the school's male uniform. It consisted of a black blazer with white accent. With a similar set of pants. Along with a pair of brown dress shoes it was a standard getup in any sense. It did seem also that we were given the privilege of what color of under shirt we wore, as long as it wasn't something that would be a distraction. When it came to his choice it was that of a white undershirt, much like everyone else's. I looked in the mirror to see my hair was a complete mess, parts lying flat while others stood like spikes. I grabbed the brush and fixed my head up into something more presentable. I looked at my handiwork to see that my medium length hair was now down and in a more formal look. His black hair accented the uniform well, and his light-complexation was at least somewhat darkened by sun exposure, his eyes were also black like his hair. Overall, he would say that he wasn't particularly good looking nor ugly. He is what he was.

Stepping out of the restroom Kadan grabbed his backpack before stepping into the main room. The small living room consisted of a chair and a couch that could fit around two people. Close by the tv stood there, next was the kitchen where he stored and cooked his meals, while nothing fancy. He did have a stove and dishwasher. Looking at the clock Kadan realized that he only had around fifteen minutes before class started. It would have been easier if he wasn't on the third floor. Going to the pantry, he looks around quickly find a protein bar he put on his shoes and rushed out bar in his jaw. Before opening the door, I grabbed my bike key on the hook by the doors I sped away.

Making my way thought the whole of my part of Kuoh was that it was further from the Academy than other areas. Once outside of my complex I unlocked my bike from the rack that it was on. As I put as much effort into my peddling I sped by a lot of people and as I used the lanes to move passing by other bikers going at a laxer pace, I got lucky with traffic and avoided needing to stop. It wasn't long before the complexes and stores gave way to the walls of the academy. They were quite tall as I rode by them. It seemed though as I might be late as I noticed to there was no one else near the gates, and to my frustration when I pulled up to the gates there was no one out front either. Sigh and berating myself for not being quick enough, I got off my bike and locked it up with the other bikes. As I was checking the lock, I heard a soft voice say.

"Excuse me, but who are you and what are you doing on academy grounds?" I turned my head to see a short but stunning young bespectacled woman standing behind me. She had a slim figure, with a soft face. Her eyes were a rich violet which only seemed to standout with her raven black hair.

"Oh, I'm sorry my name is Kadan Baatar! I am a new student to the academy and I was trying to get to my class!" I said in slight surprise at the fact that I was being approached by what seemed to be a student. She looked me over trying to get a gage on me if I were to guess, after a second, she stopped before looking at me and saying.

"Hello Mr. Baatar my name is Souna Shitori and I am the student council president and I'm here to help you get to your classes"." Mrs. Shitori said with a polite but small smile.

Authors Note: Hello everyone! I am back with a new story based on two rather interesting universes! One where darkness is everywhere and there is only war to the laughter of thirsting gods, and one where the literal power of boobs can save the day. Where am I going with this who knows! And I'm curious to see who you all think is who! Either way enjoy the first chapter and see you next time!