Prologue

A chilling evening breeze whistled through the village streets. The late winter air weaved its way deep into the heart of the once lively village. Every citizen was either sound asleep or close to it. Not a soul was in the streets save for one lone figure who stood outside in the street in front of a couple's home with something wrapped tenderly in his arms.

The figure stood at an imposing height, yet his actual body was shrouded in darkness from the night and from the black hooded robe which he wore. The one underneath the robe shifted uncomfortably and examined the area taking in every detail of his surroundings as if he was being watched. Protruding out from the cloak was the hilt of a mighty blade that had no doubt seen its share of combat. Yet, despite the worn hilt of the blade's continued use, his hands were gracious and tender enough to be cradling the form of his infant son.

A small coo of excitement and intrigue emanated from the young child as it beheld the face of his father for perhaps the final time. The young boy squirmed and writhed just like any young child and extended his small hand outward to his father. The father shuddered as small streams of water flooded his eyes and ran down his cheeks as he extended his finger to allow his son to grasp it one last time. He knew what he had to do, but it was by far the hardest thing he ever had to do.

"I'm so sorry, my son!" he wept as he brought the child closer to him. "I should have stopped him sooner! Now… because of my involvement with him… your mother's been taken and I'll soon follow… He will seek out your life to no end until he has gotten from you what he wanted and then… he'll destroy you! And… that's not the life you should be forced to live… You shouldn't have to live in fear for your life… It's all… my fault…! Forgive me, my son…!"

The man knelt at the porch of the home weeping with his son in his arms for perhaps the last time. He slowly wiped away his tears and gazed into the blue eyes of his son and smiled.

"Someday, you'll grow up to be a fine man. Just like your old man." The man leaned down and kissed his son on the forehead and laid his son in a small, neatly dressed basket on the porch. He pulled out a scrap of paper that had a pre-written explanation and tucked the note in with the folds of the cloth of the basket. As he wrapped the small blanket around his son, his heart was warmed once again by the innocent smile and the gentle sounds that the baby child made. "Take care of your new parents, Ryo. And make your mother and I proud. I know you will. You're my flesh and blood after all."

Suddenly, a light illuminated through the crevices of the home out into the street where the figure stood. Whoever was inside probably heard the commotion outside and decided to investigate. The father looked one last time at his son. Feeling compelled to give his son one last gift, the father took off his dark robe and laid it as an added blanket over the child.

"Goodbye, my son! You'll make me proud. I know it…" the father swallowed hard wiping both his eyes and brow. The gentle shuffling of feet from someone inside could be heard nearing the door. The man stiffened and inhaled deeply. Not wanting to be seen the man stole off into the blackness quickly leaving his son at the doorstep.

Not a second later, the door of the house opened and light illuminated the once darkened streets. The man who stood at the doorway was a man in his early thirties with an already receding hair line. He was dressed in his boxers with only a thin robe overtop that was not tied. Evidently, he had been in bed sleeping. As the man yawned and wiped his eyes clear, the light cast from the lantern in his hand shook about. When he opened his eyes, his gaze immediately fell upon the small basket on the porch and the form that occupied the contents.

"What's this?!" the man proclaimed, suddenly not feeling any of the symptoms of drowsiness which usually accompanies one who has just woken up. He dropped down to his knees and lifted the lantern up to the basket. As he did, the small child cooed gleefully and reached out for the lamp with his small hands. "A… a child…!" The man pulled the dark cloak off of the child and noticed a small note. As he reached for the note, he heard the stirrings of his wife approaching from behind him. The husband turned around and said, "Honey! Look…!"

His wife, also arrayed in a simple night robe, wiped the sleep out of her eyes and followed the direction of her husband's outstretched hand. When her eyes beheld the small basket and the contents of the basket she gasped and practically tripped over her husband to reach the child.

"Ohhh… a baby…! He's so cute!" the woman exclaimed as she knelt down to the ground to get a better look at the baby. "How could anyone abandon such a beautiful little child like this?" She said as she stroked the child's cheek gently. When she slowly lifted the child out of the basket and to herself, the child squirmed nervously and began to cry softly. "Shhhhh…" came the gentle, comforting voice of the mother as she began to rock back and forth in order to comfort the child. "It's all right, child. You're safe now. I'll take care of you." She slowly stood to her feet and wrapped the child closer in the loose folds of her robe.

"His name…is Ryouto," the father stated after reading the note, crumpling it between his fingers, and stuffing into his pocket. "And let's just say that I owed a man a favor, a long time ago."

"Wait! What? Vaan, what favor are you talking about? And who…?" the wife stammered with tightness in her voice, but she was cut off when the child in her arms began to cry from the increased tone of her voice and from the tension that rippled throughout her body.

"I think it's best we head inside, quickly," Vaan urged as he directed her inside, cautiously looking around in the street.

"Alright. The poor thing is probably hungry and cold from being out here. You'll have to tell be about this person though."

"Right," the father nodded and gathered the black cloak, basket, and lantern in his hands. He took a quick, sharp glance down the street. "Kazu, where are you? And what's happened?" Vaan followed his wife into their modest home. As he gently kicked the door shut with his feet, the gentle cries of the young child were enclosed in the confines of the house and the street was once again silent and dark.

Just as the street was encased in darkness, three shadowy figures leapt down into the street. Each was clothed in all black clothing and armor and wore swords on their backs. They looked at each other through the narrow slits for their eyes when one of them motioned down farther on the street. They all nodded at each other and seemed to silently agree to fulfill their mission. They all dashed down the street and continued their pursuit.