Chapter One

On a far off island, isolated by other worlds exists a young man. This being lives alongside other islanders since the first settlers. This island is a beautiful paradise filled with all forms of life. But in the shadows of this haven, lie beasts and creatures of terrible magnitude. The islanders who first settled here have grown their own tradition. This tradition was made to protect the island and its people from harm. When young men reach an appropriate age, they are to begin training in the skilled arts of the sword.
Once their training is complete and have reached the age of seventeen, they shall be appointed as guardians and receive their own sword and garments symbolizing proof of their heritage and strength of a swordsman. Many look forward to the day they become swordsman like their predecessors before them, but one does not. That young man is known by the name of Sage. He lives life like his fellow islanders but does not accept his fate as a swordsman. He accepts it not because his father before him was the greatest swordsman ever to live. He could perform tasks that would take thirty men to do. All admired his father for his power and courage.
One fateful day when Sage was ten years old, his father went out on a journey in a maelstrom of a hurricane. All that had been found was his sword. Once his family had heard of the horrible fate that bestowed his father, Sage began his training as a swordsman. Try as he might, he could not live up to the legend of his father. Soon he began to resent the training. Then that resentment turned into hatred.
Soon that hatred corrupted the heart and soul of Sage. Once corrupted, Sage threw down his sword on the edge of a cliffside near the ocean and vowed to never pick it up. Seven years have passed since then. The sword Sage had thrown down still lies in its resting place, touched only by time. But the sword was not the only one touched by time. Sage now stands tall at the age of seventeen. Brown hair flows within the cool sea breeze of the day. His brown eyes stare out at the vastness of the surrounding ocean. A black hooded shirt and pants of the same shade sway back and forth in the breeze. He stands in brown boots on the hard earth below him. Today was a special occasion. This day marked the celebration of two new warriors whom Sage had never known. The festivities were held in town in the middle of the island, but Sage spent the time on the outskirts of his home of paradise.

“Why do I feel empty?” Sage asked himself.
“I tried at the limits my body could take me, and it wasn’t enough to match my father. Why? If I am his son, then I should have succeeded… Maybe my destiny doesn’t belong to the sword…”
Sage looks up toward the cloudless blue sky, seeking an answer to his riddle. The sky shows not but deep blue as far as the eye can see. He lowers his head to the ground. Deep within his hatred and resentment, he knows pain and sorrow lurk in the shadows. He wishes to be rid of these feelings, though he does not know how to free his heart. He wants to sever the chains of fate that bind him to regain his heart and become his true self.
This he wants, but cannot find the way to do so. He does not know where to look for answers to unsolved questions, but to the sky and the ocean. The answers exist but are only lost. From a distance voices are heard. Sage turns to see whom the voices belong to. They are the two new warriors wearing their swordsman garments and holding their swords high in the air with pride, followed by many others. Sage stays focused on the group, watching them as they pass by. The group suddenly stops only a yard away from him. The two swordsman lower their weapons and approach Sage.
“Well well. Admiring our succession to your failure?” asked one of them.
“Zela! Forgive my ally. He doesn’t know when to introduce himself before insulting others. My name is Sirok. This is Zela. What do we call you?”
“Sage.”
Sirok asked, “Sage?”
Zela asked, “I see why your name is Sage.”
“Why?” asked Sage.
Zela replied, “Because Sage means wise. You were wise enough to quit years ago trying to be a swordsman. You cowered in fear trying to surpass your father”
Sage looks towards the ground, almost as if ashamed for his actions in the past.
“Look Zela. You can still see that fear in his eyes,” said Sirok.
Sage quickly looks back at the two men. He straightens out his stance and holds his head high.
“And I can see why you were made into swordsman,” replied Sage.
Sirok asked, “Really? Please do tell.”
Sage replied, “With pleasure. You used cockiness and intimidation towards your opponent to become a swordsman.”
“Cockiness!? Intimidation!? Do you have any godly idea of whom you insult!? We are the best on this island! None in the Arena of Fate dare challenge us because we have shown them what power we have!” exclaimed Zela.
“Zela! Calm yourself. You seem confident to beat us. What say you in a match against us in the Arena?”
“Sirok! What are you doing? He insults you and you offer him a chance to fight you? He shouldn’t even have the honor of talking to us!”
“Still, what say you?”
“I turned down that fate long ago,” replied Sage.
“Coward! Snake!” yelled Zela.
“Zela, hold your tongue!” yelled Sirok.
“No! He insults us and cannot defend those words. We are superior to him! He should be bowing to us!”
“I bow to none,” replied Sage, still holding his head high.
Zela walks over to Sage. He reaches his arm out and grabs the back of Sage’s head. He pulls hard and kicks the back of his knees, forcing him to kneel on the ground. Zela continues to pull on Sage’s hair.
“What was that you were saying? Something of not bowing to none? Correct?”
Sage replied in pain and anger, “…Yes.”
“Then why are you on the ground, bowing to me?”
“Zela! Sirok!”
A man dressed in gold armor approaches, riding on horseback. Zela releases his grip on Sage. Sage gets back up on his feet as the man arrives and dismounts from his steed. He slowly walks to the group. He stares at Sage only for a moment and turns his attention to Zela and Sirok.
“Sir Arouch!” exclaimed the two as they salute the man.
Sir Arouch, “I have orders for the two of you.”
“Sir?”
“It seems one of our training camps in the mountains was ambushed by a creature of unmatched power. It was something we never encountered before. Our task is to fight the beast as long as possible, just enough to let the apprentices to escape.”
“Yes Sir!”
“Sage… I do not expect you to interfere. Though your father and I are long old friends, I will not hesitate on a punishment for disobeying orders,” said Sir Arouch.
“Don’t worry about me,” replied Sage.
“Dismissed.”
Sir Arouch mounts his horse and rides off to the mountain.
“Too bad. I wanted to teach you some manners towards us. But I guess that is another lesson for another day,” said Zela.
Zela and Sirok run towards the village to retrieve their horses and meet the others at the camp. The group that admired the two went into town to wait for them. But one stayed behind. A young girl close to Sage’s age.  She has brown like Sage, with a lighter color. She wears a white skirt and a white shirt. Sandals are worn upon her feet. She stands there, staring and watching Sage. He stares at the direction of the mountain. Sage does not notice the girl until he turns to the direction of the village. His eyes meet hers, and for a moment, time stood still.
“Is there something you want?” Sage asked the girl.
She shakes her head, saying no.
“Then what is it?”
“Why are you here?” asked the girl.
“Wanting to forget the pain.”
“What do you mean?”
“People remind me of my failure and my decision to quit where my father succeeded. Standing here almost lets me forget everything.”
“Why did you try to be like him?”
“I…I don’t know. I guess because he was the greatest warrior here on this island.”
“But that was him. Why not try being yourself?”
“Who are you? Why are you asking these questions?”
“They were always something I wanted to ask. And you know who I am.”
She walks off to the village, leaving Sage alone. Many questions were running through his head now. Questions he himself had asked.
“Why did I do it? Why did I try to be like my father? Was it to be like him, or was it something else? Who was she? Why can’t I remember?”
Sage looks at the ground, trying to figure out what was happening. He looks to the sword he lay to rest. He slowly approaches the sleeping blade. Dirt and rust lay on the once sharp blade. Sage looks at the very ground the sword was embedded in. He saw some writing. Two names were in the ground. One was his. As for the other, he started to remember what it was. Meryll. The other name in the ground. It was the name of the girl. Sage was obsessed with his pain for many years, he had forgotten many things in his life, including her.
“I know I vowed, but some vows are worth breaking.”
Sage grabs to hilt of his old sword with both hands. He begins to pull hard, to free what is his from it’s grave. With one successive pull, he holds his sword for the first time as himself. With the sword in his hands, he feels like as if he knows who he is. He looks at the town and knows what to do. He leaves the grave of his sword and heads into the village. Though the other villagers look and talk about him, he does not care. He makes his way to the blacksmith.
“So, I see you’ve made up your mind about that sword,” said the blacksmith.
“Yes. So, what do you think?”
Sage hands his sword to the blacksmith. The man carefully inspects the sword.
“I am sorry. But this blade is too rusted to use anymore. But I do have a solution. Come back tomorrow.”
“Alright. I know your policy of pay before buy. How much?”
“I will not charge for this sword. Your father already left me the materials and the pay for what I will give you. Come back when it is ready.”
The blacksmith goes back into his shop and closes it from the public. Sage walks back to his home.
He wonders about what the blacksmith had said. His father already left the materials and pay for the sword? How can he make such an arrangement? Sage looks out to side of the mountain. A small encampment lies in the forest. He remembers that is the training camp for the swordsmen. He enters the inside of his home and goes to his bed. All seems peaceful through the rest of the night.
Dreams and nightmares haunt Sage’s mind. He runs through a forest and stops at a strange stone temple. He slowly walks toward it, when the laughter of small children fill the air. He stops and draws a sword. He searches for children, but cannot see them. The laughter continues to grow louder and louder and begins to sound as if they were coming from inside his own head. Then it suddenly stops. Sage looks around. Not a single sound is heard. The trees and leaves stand still. The forest floor and sky above are silent. The creatures small and large are not heard. The strange silence frightens Sage. Then, small and faint noises are heard. To Sage, they sound like voices. They too, start to grow louder.
“Is this the one?”
“Does he have the strength?”
“Does he have the will?”
“Does he have courage?”
“Who are you?!” yells Sage.
“How can he help? How can he stop the prophecy?”
“Answer me!!” yelled Sage again.
The voices then stop.
“Who were they? What were they talking about?”
Sage is then swept off his feet, falling backwards into the ground. He falls through it into a strange room. Once he stopped falling, Sage took a look around the room. It was a shrine of some kind. Strange, but familiar glyphs are written on the walls. He doesn’t know what they say, but he knows he has seen them before. Footsteps are heard coming from a staircase. Sage quickly hides behind a table. A child walks inside. A young girl dressed in white stands there. Sage doesn’t know who she is. He has never seen her in his life.
“I know you are here,” says the girl.
Sage steps out from the behind the table and approaches the girl.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” asked Sage.
“You should ask yourself that.”
“What?”
“You shouldn’t be here. They will find you. They already know you’re here.”
“Who?”
“The shadows.”
“What?”
Sage then awakens from his dream. He slowly gets out of bed, taking care not to disturb anyone. Night still surrounds the horizon of the sky. Many stars are seen, with no clouds blocking them. Sage wonders who that little girl was. And what she meant by the shadows.  He goes back to his bed and tries to go back to sleep. He does not have any more dreams throughout the night.
Morning arrives and Sage gets out of bed and readies himself for the day. Deep within, he feels that today will be different. He doesn’t know how or why, but he has that feeling. He steps out of the door of his home and sees many of the villagers running to the town square. He questions about what is happening. He runs to the town square along the rest of them to see what the commotion is about. He arrives at the town square to see only a few traders and their stalls. He knows these traders are not a big worry because the have always been here. He looks around to see if there is anything else in the town square.  He sees a  group of people huddled around a few soldiers. Sage runs over to see what was happening.
“What happened?” asked a villager.
“We were not strong enough,” answered a soldier, shaking.
“Please, tell us!”
“Zela and Sirok… It may be too late.”
“What happened?” asked Sage.
“Sir Auroch, he tried, but even he was no match to stop it…”
“Tell me what the hell happened!” yelled Sage.
“It won’t matter. They’re all dead before nightfall…”
“I have to get to the blacksmith.”
“Are you mad!? You cannot go! We all tried, and look what happened!” yelled the soldier.
“What did happen?” asked Sage.
“A terrible creature. It has been terrorizing one of the camps in the mountains. We all tried to kill it, but it did the killing instead. It was wounded by Sir Auroch then fled deeper into the mountains. Zela and Sirok chased after the fowl thing. We heard monstrous sounds and feared the worse. We haven’t seen any sign of them. Even Sir Auroch, who followed after the sounds, did not return. If they couldn’t do anything, then what chance do you, of all the people on the island, have against it?”
“I may not have a chance, but it is better than what you cowards are doing.”
“That coming from the boy who tossed his sword trying to be like his father. You will die, and join your father. Mark my words, boy.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
Sage turns away from the group and runs to the blacksmith. The man steps out of his shop, wiping away the sweat that had beaded upon his head. He sees Sage running and assumes he is coming for the sword. He turns around and enters his store. Sage sees the man retreat and fears the blade is not ready. He suddenly stops at the store entrance and looks around for some other alternative when he hears the man clear his throat, standing outside his door.
“Listen. I need that sword. Trouble is going on in the mountain. I need to help them,” said Sage.
“I know. Be careful. And take care of this sword. This is the last favor I will do for your father.”
“Thank you.”
The blacksmith tosses the sword into the air. Sage catches it and ties it across his right soldier over his back. He looks at the mountain. He looks back at the blacksmith and nods his head. Sage then turns, facing the mountain. He takes a deep breath, then runs as fast as he can to the camp in the mountain side. The blacksmith in turn, continues to stand at his door, watching as Sage makes his way.
“A fine boy you raised, old friend,” the blacksmith said to himself.
Sage makes his way through the forest foliage, moving quickly to help. He doesn’t know if he can help, or make things worse. But he cannot stand and watch. Though he doesn’t like them, Zela and Sirok still need help, along with Sir Auroch. They all need it. Sage makes it to what looks like an encampment. He stops himself from going any further. He slowly walks through, looking in all directions, keeping an eye out for any sign of Auroch or the others. He looks over to his side and sees a man lying on the ground. It was Sir Arouch. Sage runs to his side and lifts his head up. Sage inspects him to see any wounds. Sir Arouch only had a few wounds.
Sage said, “Sir Arouch, wake up!”
“Hmm-mm. S-Sage?… What… are you doing here?” asked Sir Arouch.
Sage replied, “The village has heard what happened here. I came to assist you and the others.”
“Although it is appreciated, you should not have come. You only know so little of fighting. You will be of no use to anyone.”
“Sir, I came to help you escape here. I know I can’t that thing alone. Where are the others?”
“They fled. I only prey they made it home.”
“What about you? Can you get up on your own?”
Sir Arouch stayed silent for only a moment.
“Yes. But what of you?”
“I will go and look for any others that are roaming the woods. If I find any, I will help them get back home. I can’t fight, but looking for survivors and helping them in other ways is better than nothing.”
“The words your father may say to something like this. Very well. Please do not do anything out of your power.”
“I won’t sir.”
“Sir Arouch!” yelled a man.
A small group of men came running up to Sage and Sir Arouch. They begin helping the man to his feet and help him to the village.
“Thank you Sage.”
“Right. There may be more out in the woods. I’m going to look for them. I’ll make sure they make it to the village safely.”
“Just as we will bring Sir Arouch home. Be careful.”
Sage darts his way through the woods looking for any others. Slowly Sage finds many survivors. He continues his search as it leads him deeper into the forest. He finds the last of the survivors. A small group led by Zela and Sirok. They all sit around what appears to be a body. Disfavor is upon of all their faces. They hear Sage running through the bushes. They see him running towards them.
Sage asked, “Are you the last of the survivors?”
Sirok asked, “What are you doing here Sage?
He replied, “We heard what had happened. I’m here to look for any others and bring them home.”
“We are the last. But unfortunately, we were too late to save him.”
“Come on. We must go. That thing may be near,” said Sage.
Zela said, “You may be here, but you are not in charge. I outrank you. I say what we will do.”
“Then what will we do then?” asked Sage.
“We will find the beast and finish it off. We outnumber it greatly. Even with one who has low skill in using a sword  such as you Sage, we will kill the beast.”
“Are you mad?! We tried to fight it and many of our own died. And they were all stronger and more skilled then him. Not even Sir Arouch made a difference. What chance do we have?” asked one of the men.
“Listen to him Zela. There is no chance of succeeding. We must return to the village. We will have a better chance of winning,” said Sage.
“There you go, ordering me again. Know your place. If not, then I will put you in your place,” said Zela angrily.
“Your pride will get us killed Zela. Lead the way Sage,” said Sirok.
“What?! You would rather take orders from him then I?!” asked Zela.
“Better to take orders of reasoning then orders of foolhardy.”
“The village should be down this way. Follow me,” said Sage.