The setting sun in the sky illuminated on the ground, shinning down over the ceremonial table. The man was tied tightly down and stretched over the table naked. Two others that were near him stood there drawing markings and symbols upon his body with falcon feathers and shadow ink. His eyes lay closed as his chest drew in one shaky breath after another. This was to be his future, his destiny. He felt himself being pulled in to the shadow realm and then the memories came.
A young boy of seven ran down the stairs of the house almost slipping twice in his excitement. He dashed in to the room where his father was awaiting him. Today was the happiest day of his life, for it was the day he would receive his birth name. A day in which he had been working hard for, since it would be his name for now and forever. Most of the white mages had animal birth names to show their skills and their honor. His older brother was name Hawk flier, but even at this age the young boy was better in the skills of a white mage then his brother, that was four years old. For this reason Hawk hated him. His older sisters name had been Morphidae Butterfly, after the rare and beautiful blue butterfly. Nobody could deny that she had both the charm and the looks of a noble Lady, but her work as a commoner made her gorgeous.
He looked up at his father confident that his name would be the best ever. His father had thought long and hard that night, remembering the words of a Silver Dragon. “The bane to the white mage and a gift to the dark mage, he shall be strongest in both magic’s.” With that he had made the decision to try to shame his youngest son out of the practice of magic and this was the first step. Gravely he looked at the boys face, shining with hope and proclaimed his name. “Thou shalt be callth Galin.” Galin looked up to him in shock. It wasn’t an animal name, it was a name for those that don’t use magic. He ran from the room in tears, his older brother smirking and his sisters head bent in sorrow. That moment was the moment he decided to work hard and make Galin a mage name, a name that would be known.
The mans eyes fluttered open, he felt the two drawing on his face. A soft soothing voice calmly reassured him. "All is well brother close thine eyes and remember for it is natural." He complied with her wishes and closed his eyes. His mind now drifting to years later when he was twelve. At the exact moment he became certain he was more powerful then his father already. Also the same day he had been sent away with nothing but a black stallion Pegasus. The figure closes his eyes and swallowed as his mouth went dry. These terrible memories coming back once more to haunt him.
Galin had just come in from working the field, the herb and magical roots
needed to be tended everyday for hours and it was his job. He had been forced to do that
while his siblings practiced magic. So in return he became stronger then them all, another
reason his older brother hated him. His father gave him a nod, the most effection he ever
got in that family and motioned for him to sit down and eat. Galin sat down in silence
then in a timid whisper, “Father Lord?” His father looked up and watched his youngest
son not giving a response. Galin licked his dry lips and asked, "Father Lord, I want to
learn how to fight." At his fathers scowl he continued quickly, "Not with magic Father
Lord, but with physical weapons. Can I please?" His fathers face suddenly took on a
thoughtful expression then he smiled a rare smile. “Of course you can my son as long as
you don’t use any magic while you train with weapons. You must first learn to use them
as a common man. Agreed?” Galin nodded his eyes bright with excitement.
Later that night he asked his father one more question, one he had wondered
about for a very long time. “Father Lord, can we bring back the dead?” His fathers face
turned sad, “No my son we can not.” Galin looked amused, “But Father Lord, when the
poachers came they shoot my Stallion. He was dead, yet he is still in the stall alive this
day. Doesn’t that mean I brought him back to life?” His father went in to a rage and hit
his son. That night Galin was cast from the house and told to go to a training school for
boys that wanted to learn to be warriors. He decided then that his father couldn’t bring
back the dead. Yet inside Galin knew that he could....for he had.
The man on the table gasp in lain as the next wave of the poison took over.
Slowly dying there was nothing he could do but wait, opening his eyes he looked down.
Amused at what he saw, the symbols covered him completely. Once more he heard the
soft, gentle voice telling him to go back to sleep. To let his dreams once again take over,
finally he understood. His body would die in a sense, but the dreams would keep him
alive moving him to the shadow realm. Or the realm of nightmares as others called it.
Although to him, it wouldn’t be a night mare, but something else interlay different. To
him it would be the only way to stay alive. His conscience to the outside would
disappeared once more as the memories returned.
~BAM, CRASH, SMACK, CLANG~ went the air as Galin bested one lad
after the other. Each fell before his fury and power, his anger and pain hidden by the
mask of concentration on his face. Suddenly with the sweep of the sword the teacher fell
back. Galin moved forward and rested the tip of the blade on the teachers neck. The
teacher nodded and pushed the blade aside. Galin turned to the crowd that had gathered
and said in a soft , but deadly voice. “Let any man that says a word about my name know
he sentences himself to death, for a name doesn’t make the man, but the man the name.”
With that Galin threw the sword between the teachers feet and left the training field. He
had just made an enemy, but who cared. They all knew that he was the best. The next
day he left, going to an old house in the woods. Galin knew how to fight with honor, but
their were many ways to fight and the next way he wanted top learn was the craft of the
assassin. The mans memories faded and a new one appeared.
Galin still at a young age raced over the hills on his black Pegasus stallion.
The house that loomed in the distance came closer as the minutes rushed by. Finally the
brown mossy looking house could be seen to the smallest detail. The door was painted a
faded forest green which seemed like it had been pealing slowly away over the ages. The
roof was thatched with a mud caked chimney sticking out right in the center. Thick black
smoke billowed out from the hole and faded off in to the air. Galin didn’t think this
seemed like the type of place a master assassin would live, but this was the only house
around here. So he got of his stallion and walked to the door cautiously, watching every
place he took a step for traps, but found none. Knocking lightly on the door he noticed a
faint symbol carved on it, meaning “Warning.” So even thought there was no answer
Galin knew not to enter, he sat down on the mat and waited...and waited... and waited.
Until a night and a day had passed. Finally the door slowly swung open and he stood up.
Stepping inside with a practiced caution he moved easily out of the way as the knife
wised by his face, inches away.
He waited standing in the light of the door until he heard a sound of in the
distance. “What do you want boy?” Galin calmly with no trace of the panic he felt
replied, “Are you the great master assassin, for I seek training from you if that be your
title.” He heard a shape laugh then in a firm clear voice that seemed to echo from all
around, “What makes you think, boy that you are good enough to be an assassin?” Galin
drew in a deep breath and told him. “I studied with the master arms trainer at point break
for three years, until I bested every student he had and the teacher himself.” Galin paused
in case the master Assassin had any questions, but when no response was made he
continued. “Plus my father was the master white mage with in three hundred miles of the
four towns and all the forest.” At that he heard a intake of breath, nothing more.
Suddenly the door slammed shut and the light of a candle appeared to relive a door that
led down under the house in to a cave system. The voice said, “You just might be able to
be an assassin, but lets find out. Take this candle and go in to the caves, track your way
to my really home and we shall talk. One false move and your dead, I hope I’ll see you
there.” With that the man disappeared.
A couching fit racked the man’s body, making it harder to breath. It was
getting closer and he knew it. He was no longer scared just tired. So very tired, he closed
his eyes again. This was for the last time. They wouldn’t open again for a long time, not
until he was ready to take his body back once more and raise up as a shadow lord. In this
he took a grim delight to, it was time that he become powerful enough that all of his hard
earned skills would be put together. Only then would he be a master hunter, and one of
the best.
Galin step from the house years later and look up at the sunlight that he had
not seen since he stepped in to that house, his training was rough and that was one of the
things he gave up. His freedom was lost, until this moment. Galin smiled and whistled
confident his pegasus stallion had not run far in this time, but when he didn’t hear him
coming he got worried. He turned around and was started as he came face to face with it.
“Hey boy,” he said in greeting and rub it’s snout, then grabbed a fist full of mane and
jumped up on it’s back. He rode fast toward home the wind feeling great though his
shoulder length hair. He thought he looked like a girl, but both master had told him, it
was a cut of a hunter and a warrior so there was nothing to do about it.
He couldn’t wait to see his family, or more important his sister butterfly, so he
urged the stallion faster and in to the air over the last hill. As soon as he could see the
house he stopped short, it was burning and figures were running around bellow. He
yelled and drew his sword, racing down the hill at a dangerously fast battle pace. The
first person he went by, he swiped it’s head clean from it’s neck. The second he cut in it
it’s heart, still at this deadly fast pace, this went on again and again until he reached the
burning house. The stallion didn’t even stop but jumped through a huge window Galin
still on it’s back, because it could sense it’s master wanted to be in that house as quickly
as possible. Galin jumped from the pegasus, and began searching rooms. His step
mother was dad and had been raped by the looks of it. His bother was still alive, but
when Galin looked at him he saw fangs dripping red from his mouth. VAMPIRES!!!,
yelled Galin and attacked his own older brother, killing him quickly. As he stepped aside
he saw his father, the bite marks clear on his neck. He was dead as well, but they had
tortured him first. Galin turned away and walked outside, his face a mask of hatred so
terrible the enemies flea before him, not wanting to fight the monster they saw in his eyes.
He reached the barn and saw a rather large vampire standing over his struggling sister,
beating her with one hand. No expression on Galins face could be red as he drove the
point of his blade through its back and cut around the monsters heart, then reached in and
pulled it still out watching the beating slowly fade then stop.
Galin looked down at his dying sister and dropped the sword, kneeling down
by her. He took her hand, but no words we necessary as she slowly died. His anger
became that of sorrow and he brought his sister hand to his lips and kissed her goodbye.
Then stood up and walked out, dropping a torch on the hay watching the whole barn burn
to the ground nothing more then ashes were left except a few things of metal. A small
silver dagger his sister had always carried for protection, a heart shaped necklace of gold,
and a butterfly pin of soft blue metal. He gathered these things, and looked at them. The
dagger was a women dagger, so he slipped that inside a pouch. It would later be given to
someone else that became very special to Galin. The other two items he looks at more
closely. The butterfly pin he put in a pouch that hung around his neck, laying right over
his heart and has never taking it out since that day. Holding the necklace in his hand he
mounted up on the stallion, still holding the bloody sword and galloped off to the sacred
grove.
Looking in to the small pool of water he dropped the necklace in to it. He
new that this was his sister’s favorite place. A wolf came from the forest as he did and he
look up staring at the wolf in surprise. The wolf sat down on it’s hunches and watched
Galin in return, then spoke but not out loud, though it’s mind. *What will you do now
Sprit of the wolf?* Galin looked confused and asked it “Sprit of the wolf?” It almost
looked like it was laughing, *Do you really think a human name will suffice for a birth
name, with your power. That is you name.* Galin’s eyes narrowed and he said, “no it’s
not. No, I’m going to pick my own name.” The wolf didn’t look surprised at this. Galin
stood up and looked at the blood covering him, “I shall be called Hunter, for that is what I
am going to do until I find peace.” Galin sneered as the fresh memory of his sister came
to mind, a memory that would never fade over time. He would never find peace he
thought.. never.
The figure opened his eyes and broke he ropes that held him down, sitting up he looked around. He was now a shadow Lord and he could feel the power coursing through him. Another figure came running over and yelled, “Hunter, you made it!!” He smiled and looked around, yes he had made it. It was time to let everyone else know he made it as well. He would kill every kindred he could from now on.. The memories were still fresh in his mind, even today. With a smile of ice he turned back the the famle assassin before him. "Yes, I made it."
A single wolf from the forest watched, then turned away. It walked deep in to the jungle until the tree stretched for miles high and changed back in to it’s usually form. A silver dragon now stood in it’s place. "We shall see sprit of the wolves, we shall see were you go for I am always watching." She had been, at his birth, his trials through life, even in the shadow realm, she had been there. She knew......she knew it all... The dragon took to the air and smiled to herself, he was coming along nicely, he would suit her purpose as she wanted him to, now only if he would lose this revenge thing... Everything would be perfect....just perfect.
The scoll is signed at the bottom with the same marking as the top and scribed next to it in bright silver text is the signature of the dragon herself. You realise that she was the one that wrote this.
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