[LoneSyndal]

Author's Note: I decided to re-do all my works and finish this book during this summer. I'll post once every 3-5 chapters are done to get some critique and comments about each piece to get a good idea of how to write for a wider audience. I'm no fantasy writer like any big names you may know. My only goal is to portray a beautiful world that I have created, watched, and experienced over and over again for the past many years and I would like to share it with the rest of the world. That's my only true goal in writing these series, and I do hope you will enjoy each and every one of them.

---



Prelude




He reached his hand for the setting sun, but they wouldn’t move. He wasted away his last moments watching the scenery. His body no longer moved the way he wanted to. The excruciating pain he once felt was lost, but he was not unsatisfied. For the first time in many long years, he had truly smiled. What he had achieved, everything he had done, he knew that what he did had truly brought change to the world filled with madness and rage.

Tears trickled slowly down his face. He knew that he was born for this exact reason, this exact purpose. His life had been paved by someone else other than him, but he thought it was for the better. Had he continued back then, he would still be wandering aimlessly with no goals, no purpose, and no reason for his existence.


The man could hear footsteps, each step bringing the stranger closer to him. He could see the stranger's familiar face after turning his head slightly.

“I wouldn’t let an old friend go alone. I’ll accompany you until then,” the stranger’s voice was rough, yet soothing to the man’s soul. There were many things he wished to ask this stranger, but he couldn’t speak. His body no longer had the ability to do so.

“You were going to ask, and I shall answer,” the stranger looked at the direction of the setting sun, “I never once doubted your existence, nor have I ever looked down upon it. You were made to bring change to this cycle of hatred. Through your actions… you changed fate, shattered reason, and ultimately made a difference in the world. For that, I’ll be your friend until the end.”

The tears of sadness became tears of happiness. Being told that he was useful was all he ever wanted. His memories of the past no longer haunted him. Each memory began to fade into the abyss of his mind. Even with the sun setting, he could see a light shining before him.

“Though the world may not remember, I will… old friend.”

His eyes finally shut from fatigue. A calm expression spread on his face. And there, he made his last smile.

This post has been edited by LoneSyndal: 15 June 2011 - 10:31 PM

[LoneSyndal]

Chapter 1


He buried his face in his hands, unable to look upon the world before him. What happened that day, he could no longer forgive himself. In one hand, he was holding tightly a silver ring that had lost its luster. His clothes, skin, and hair were burnt and charred from the ashes of the city he dwelled. The feeling of softness and warmth barely remained within him. He was an empty shell left behind in ruin, that’s how it seemed to him anyway. His old life, the past, was all gone. There were no tears that could show the despair and pain he felt on that day.

A soldier strode by, bearing the emblem of the ‘Cross of Order’, making sure there was no longer any revolutionary causing uproar in the city. People lined up against the side of the roads or hid inside the cover of what’s left of their own homes. On that day, the people of Decius understood what violence truly meant.

“You there,” someone hollered. The man, who was once fixated on his ring, looked up to see a pair of soldiers approaching him. He didn’t know what was wrong as he had been sitting idly by for God knows how long.

When the two got close enough, their eyes observed the man and one spoke out, “He seems able enough, take him in.” The other lowered himself to the man’s eye level and asked, “You’ll be taken to the Cehebran Training Camp up north. May I ask for your name?”

The man didn’t want to answer. His eyes froze at the thought of joining them. He was being drafted into the army, the very people who destroyed his city. Though he wanted to say no, his body couldn’t react to his will and was pulled up by one of the two soldiers. “We asked for your name.”

“Faust…,” he muttered.

“And your first?”

“Dylan…”

The soldiers nodded to one another, “We’ll be escorting you to the carriages where the others are waiting. You do well to follow orders for we need as many able men as we need for the upcoming war.”

“What war?” He thought. There was only an outbreak of violence in Decius, how would a war erupt from that? He felt one of the soldiers shove him forward as they walked, “Hurry up, we have to make a few round trips to gather the many men we could get!”

Dylan remembered the city before everything had happened. He used to look up and see the city stretch far and wide around the Garino Bay. Now, he didn’t even have the heart to look up at the city anymore. His eyes were filled with the pavement of the ground he treaded upon.

As they got to the end, the young man could hear the chatter and muttering of the people ahead. There were many wagons and carriages filled with men, whether they were locals or foreign, it didn’t matter; as long as they were drafted upon Cehebran soil, they are now part of the Cehebran Army.

One of the two soldiers helped Dylan climb the wagon and the young man then settled a seat at the rear end. He could easily see the dreaded expressions on each man as they waited for more. Men, young adults, and even boys were included in the group. It really was every abled man. As soon as the wagon was full, the rider whipped the horses to set off towards the camp.

The roads weren’t paved well and Dylan could see several people feeling the nausea of leaving their homes coupled with road sickness spread across their face. There was a child who couldn’t handle it and hopped off the wagon and attempted to run. A soldier pulled out his crossbow, aimed it at the child, and shouted, “If you don’t come back, I’ll shoot.” However, the child continued to run, and in the next moment, the soldier fired a bolt that flew across the green plains and cleanly lodged itself into the boy’s head. The body flew forward and landed on the ground. Everyone now understood that there was no way out of whatever the army is planning on doing with them as not even a child could escape its grasp.

A day had passed since then. The only times the people could get off the wagon was when there was a need to rest, but the soldiers kept a constant watch even through the night. Did they not care about their own people? The soldiers were once like them, but Dylan himself couldn’t imagine what would make them like this. Were the Lord’s orders that absolute? Did he fear his people would betray him with such a patriotic idea of freedom? The people had no qualms with the Lord, but with actions like these, wouldn’t the people begin to fear the power he had and rise against him as well? There were so many questions that will remain unanswered, and they will remain so as no one would speak against the Lord for fear of the soldiers’ actions.

The sun was now directly above them and the people could see the capital city, Cehebra, in the distance. It had a majestic tower in its center, designed to prevent the enemies from reaching the Lord in dire times and is also the place where the Lord resided. The caravan the people were being sent to however, wasn’t towards the city itself. They took a turn elsewhere towards the mountainous regions west of it where the training camps should be.

Dylan noticed how his hands were still clenched tightly and finally released it and saw the ring once again. His eyes slowly became teary as he read the engravings on it:

I wish you happiness
wherever your life takes you.

[LoneSyndal]

*Axed*

This post has been edited by LoneSyndal: 25 October 2011 - 07:46 AM

[LoneSyndal]

Chapter 2


He was confused. When his named was called to come forth, he stood before a soldier. Their eyes met, but each pair was different. In one there was a will to fight, and the other there was nothing but fabrications. With weightless fists, he swung at air and received blows in return. He couldn’t land a single blow and the spar ended with his eyes staring off into the sky blocked away by the thicket of trees. When the light faded from the woods, the young man was helped up by one of his colleagues and was led towards the main camp.

It had been a daily routine since the day they were taken to the training camp to partake in sparring matches with the soldiers to gain experience in combat. Every morning, a bog would cover the thick forest and they would be told to jog until midday when it cleared. Their lunch consisted of some slob and vegetables that would only satisfy them until the night. And before the night came, they would be put back into sparring practice.

“Think we’ll get them tonight?” someone asked. A group of drafted men settled around the campfire. Dylan was also present, listening away silently.

“You’d think we get one by now, but they’re just too damn tough! Even their lowest ranks can toss us around!” ranted another.

This was the usual chatter. The group would always come together to complain and rant about their hardships, background, and how they could never take down a soldier when it mattered most. Dylan, who had remained silent the whole time, never once took the spars seriously. He remembered training under a sailor when he used to work at the shipyard. The sailor taught him how to control a boat, give orders, and self-defense. He compared himself often to the soldiers and thought of them as inferior, watching their many mistakes. As to not create such a scene and break the monotony of failures, he purposely lost his matches so they would never be added recruited to the front lines.

However, today was different. The camp’s head instructor arrived with the last batch of drafts from Lanforth, a city to the far east of the Cehebran kingdom. It was their first time seeing the head instructor, a veteran from the Holy War and former Crusader. His face was stern and powerful, eyes that seem to pierce into the depths of our souls to understand our true nature, and his figure was like a moving sculpted statue. Every movement he made seemed to make everyone else cower away or bow their heads in respect.

“I’ve been hearing reports that some men aren’t trying their all in these practices. Just because you’re not doing well doesn’t mean you’re not going to the front lines. You can be useless bags of meat that will protect the rear guard if necessary. The moment you were brought here, you know you weren’t going back,” his voice sounded over the many men. He turned his gaze to Dylan who in return, looked away.

“You there, Baker, get up here. I heard you’ve been slacking, so let’s see you give it your all tonight.” Dylan looked back and noticed the instructor was still glaring at him and he was pushed out of the crowd and forced to stand in front of the man. “You want to go home? Then you will have to survive while fighting for your kingdom! Show me what you’ve got.”

The instructor launched a hook from the left and Dylan felt the punch connect with his ribs. The force sent a jolt through his body and the air in his lungs were forced out through his mouth. His legs began to tremble until he felt another blow from the instructor’s right hitting him squarely in the upper chest. This sent Dylan flying back and once more he was facing the night sky.

“I know you can do better, kid. I taught you before at those docks during my side job. Why are you holding back? Do you honestly think you will return to your wife after this training? We’re shipping you all to Zechs in the next few months and this is all I get from my former pupil?” The instructor spat.

The other men began whispering and uttering words to each other. Dylan could hear them clearly and felt the needles prickling his back. Yes, he knew this man. He remembered all the training from before, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything.

“Your woman must be proud, believing in such a weak man as yourself. And here I thought you would remember what you said on that day when you asked for my daughter’s hand in marriage!” The instructor kicked Dylan until he passed out from the excessive damage.



“I ask for your permission to marry your daughter!”

Several men around the shipyard turned to face the aspiring youth who faced the captain of the Vermillion Sphere. The captain’s face was quite astonished, but he gave a slight smile and asked, “Are you a man who can make his own decisions and stand firm to it? Are you strong enough to defend your own ideals?”

“Are you testing me then? I’ll do whatever it takes!” the young man glared at the captain with a determined expression and even made him look away shyly.

“Then let’s see if you got what it takes.”

On that day, the young man failed many attempts at defeating the captain in a duel. He would come every day for two months just to gain the captain’s favor. Then came the day when he finally took down the captain, shocking every shipwright that was present.



Dylan woke up, his body aching from the many blows he took. He noticed the captain turning to leave and got up, “It’s been a while, old man.” His voice changed, his expression looked more energetic and for some reason, the pain subsided. He could feel the flames burning within. The instructor gave a curt smile and turned to face his son-in-law, “Then don’t disappoint me again.”

The audience could only stare in awe as they watched the fight. Even soldiers could only watch as someone fought on even ground with their leader. Each blow the two sent was blocked or parried perfectly, a counter would be sent that barely missed the other, and then a breaking of the deadlock and repeat. It was a sight to behold for everyone.

Then there was the final blow. The captain managed to successfully land a hook into Dylan’s abdomen and followed through with a sweeping kick to knock him over. Dylan no longer had the strength to stand back up, but he was grinning.

“You’ve done well, but you’ve been slacking from your practices. I would like to see you do better next time. Don’t worry about Alice… I made sure she was safe.”

Dylan felt reassured. His body felt lighter without the burden of what happened to his loved one. All there was left was the fear of the uncertain future he was going to face. Would he return to the life he once had and live happily with his family, or would he die fighting to protect it and the rest of the kingdom? He needed strength. He needed to be able to protect everything dear to him, and mostly, himself. And on that night, he slept peacefully for the first time.