A group of people were quickly running through an underground structure. At the front was an elderly man who looked ragged after intense fighting. Once wearing a suit of armor, only the arm guards remained. The rest had been forcibly ripped off by something. Despite looking ancient, strong muscles still held firm under his thin skin. Visible through a tattered white shirt.

  He ran alongside a much younger girl, both of them visibly related. Sharing the same shade of bright silver hair and blue eyes. The elder’s hair was long and tied with black string, it flowed behind him as he ran. The girl was in her late teens and wearing a much lighter set of chainmail with long silver hair flowing over her shoulders and down her back. A more armored collar, shoulder, forearms, and thighs adorned her over polished links of chainmail. Trailing behind them was a tall man in more simple chainmail, face hidden behind a visored helmet and a shorter young man in church robes, orange shaggy hair bounced around half pointed ears with each of his steps.

  The ground shook as they ran across the tiled stone floor, a wisp of golden flame above them providing light. Around a corner which was the last turn before their escape was blocked with two men in armored robes and solid iron masks covering their faces. Each wielding short swords and they darted forwards to intercept the fleeing party. The elderly man jutted forwards and drew a two handed sword off of his hip and met the first of these vile cultists. Parrying and cutting them down with ease. The tall man drew a sword of his own and met the other cultist as their friend in church robes grabbed onto a symbol of a vibrant star hanging around his neck. He muttered a prayer and a bolt of radiant white light shot forth, catching the cultist in the back allowing the tall man to cut him down. Suddenly, however, the ground shook again. A loud crash was heard as the ceiling caved in at the end of the large room, revealing a hulking figure in black armor wielding a massive onyx great-sword. An aura of wrongness enveloped this black knight.

  The silver haired teenager took a stance in front and exhaled a cloud of frost, which formed together into an arming sword and heater shield in her hands. The tall man and orange haired cleric both froze at the sight of this black knight. Terror taking over their spirits, and the same look of gripping fear spread across the teenage girl’s face as well as recognition of who stood before them set in.

  “The god-slayer” the cleric managed to rasp out as he clutched his holy symbol tight. The black knight before them rose to his feet and stared, only black emptiness laid behind the visor of his helmet. Unnatural darkness followed his movements as if the world itself is repulsed by his presence. As the three stood frozen in fear, the elderly man took a step forwards in front of his much younger relative.

  “Mark, take her and run. I will face him.” He said in an authoritative voice. The tall warrior nodded as the girl began to protest. “What? No!” as she was suddenly swept off her feet. Mark, the tall man in a suit of chainmail and visored helmet, held onto her. “Go with them, Gildor.” The elderly man said. The half elven cleric nodded and gulped, before quickly following them.

  Before the black knight could intercept the three running around him, the elderly man suddenly rushed forwards in a torrent of golden fire hot enough to leave the stone floor glowing as his longsword made contact with the black knight’s own great-sword held in a single hand. The black knight moved to grab the elderly man’s face with a dark gauntlet, but they spun around each other and the elder kicked back to make distance. Now coming around was Mark and Gildor, the sliver haired teen still in marks arm trying to break free. She was lifted over his shoulder as they began running towards the hallway now that it was clear.

  “Stop, we can’t leave him!” she shouted as she was hammering her fist into Mark’s back. Ice forming with each hit she made. “He’ll die if we do!” she cried. Tears in her eyes the only thing touching her that was not freezing.

  The elderly man stared down the black knight before sighing deeply. He tightened the grip he had on his sword, the muscles under his skin taught as steel cables. “You will not take another step beyond me.” he said with unyielding determination.

  After a moment of silence, the black knight stood straight. A darkness beyond what any mortal could fully perceive filled the inside of its helmet as a gravely voice spoke out.

  “The Great and Mighty Hero, our blades finally cross paths.”

  They took a single step forward and the elderly man focused. Runes of blue flame began to form around him, landing on his shoulders, chest, back, legs, and feet. An aura of bright yellow fire ignited and shifted to a deep, rich, ethereal amber. Light faintly shed as the symbol of a phoenix appeared within his chest, visible despite it residing where his heart would be.

  “You will not survive this fight, hero.” The god-slayer said in an even worse voice than previously. All emotion aside from malice left.

  “I do not need to survive.” The elder said. “I have already lived my life, but I will not stand and allow you to end theirs.”

  Behind them, wild shards of ice began flying from the hall the others ran from. The girl cried “Grandpa, stop! I won’t ever forgive you if you die!” with a distraught voice. Hearing her only firmed the elder’s resolve even further. Suddenly, the black knight shifted his weight and moved.

  The Elder, Akai Ryneveld, knew today would be his last. However, it was not the end of his story. His story on how he became the greatest hero of the 2nd age of this world.

  A young boy around 6 years in age lay in a golden wheat field. Shaggy silver hair adorning his head. . He was panting as a girl his own age fell onto the soft orange grass next to him, her brown hair laid out beneath her head. The two lie there, catching their breaths. A magnificent ancient oak tree resided in the middle of this field, many marks show where the villagers had tried to cut it down but not even their steel axe heads could do more than leave a little scratch in its bark. Its leaves rustled in the wind and its shade protected these two kids from the sun’s rays. After they lay resting, the girl slowly sat up. She had a bright smile on her face and said “Did you hear the news yet, Akai?”

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  The young boy, Akai, sat up and shook his head. “No, what’s going on Lamorie?” to which she slowly began to stand back up. She clasped her hands behind her back and leaned in to say. “There’s finally another kid moving into our village. Not another baby or young adult”

  Lamorie grinned with a smile missing a single baby tooth.

  Akai’s blue eyes lit up and he quickly rose to his own feet. He excitedly asked “When? Do you know their name yet?” and Lamorie shook her head. She said “Some time tomorrow” before something behind Akai caught her attention. The girl began running off again and Akai quickly turned to chase after her. Down a dirt path, he saw his mother Jennifer waving at them. Jennifer wearing a green and brown dress and her long silky brown hair tied into a loose bun behind her head. “Akai, Lamorie, Dinner’s ready!” she called and Lamorie only picked up the pace as the two kids ran.

  That night, Lamorie and her parents ate together at Akai’s home. A small 2 story house on the north east edge of their little village, separated by a field from the inner village. It was close to the logging site which worked well. Akai’s father Rei, a former scout in the Legonian Royal Army, now worked as a woodsman for this village. They had moved in around the same time Akai came around. Given this land as reward for his deeds in the army.

  Lamorie sat and ate her soup happily with her parents. Drake Holt, the village’s foremost blacksmith and his wife, Emmie, who helped in the forge and made simple jewelry on her own time. Rei said “The only thing I know about the new family moving in is the father is a retired army officer. He’s a bit older than us but his son is around our kids' age.”

  The two families enjoyed each other’s company and soon retired to bed.

  That night, Akai had the first of many recurring dreams. He dreamt he was a young man in an army. Stubble across his chin and his silver hair cut short. Wearing a suit of blue armor and equipped with an arming sword and heater shield. The crest of a phoenix adorned his chestplate as he rode on a horse behind a more experienced man through an army encampment. “Son, what you see before you will one day all be yours. The Phoenix Clan has always been a loyal vassal for our king, defending the border to the north. The rest may not know it yet, but the king has listed our clan as candidates to inherit the throne.”

  “Father, shouldn’t the prince inherit the throne?” The young knight in blue armor asked.

  “No, the prince has unfortunately fallen ill. The disease is not one that will kill him, but it will destroy his mind in time. The king has been unable to sire another heir, so he regrettably must pass his legacy onto one of the vassal clans.”

  The young knight pursed his lips as he thought about what this meant. If they were candidates, how would candidates be selected? Before he spoke up to ask just that question, the older and more experienced man ahead of him said. “When the time comes, the king will decide. If all the vassal clans are not in agreement on which candidate will ascend, a tournament between our champions will be held.”

  An icy breeze fell across the army camp from the mountains to the north and the young knight nodded. He looked over the horizon and said “Until then, I will be ready to defend when the tyrants to our north inevitably try to lay siege once again.”

  The rest of Akai’s dream followed this young knight as he rode through the camp, ultimately reaching a large tent in the center. Hitching his horse, he climbed down and walked inside. Inside, warmth from a fire filled the space as wood crackled within an iron brazier. Along one of the edges stood a mirror engraved with odd runes on its edges. The young knight knew it held magic, but right now it was unpowered. The knight stared at his own reflection, and saw amber yellow eyes staring back.

  Come morning, Akai rushed to eat the breakfast his mother made. A fried egg from a neighbor’s chickens and a pancake with nuts in it. When the young boy finished, he gave his mother a hug and left to be sure he could meet the new kid in town. It was early autumn as he ran into the village. There, he saw the house the new family would be moving into. Akai still missed the old man that lived there all alone, but he was happy the place wasn’t going to stay empty. There they saw a familiar sight. A military carriage bringing in the new family. After the last campaign, many soldiers had earned the right to a parcel of land and this officer was no different. He decided to join their village and Akai would be sure to welcome them with open arms.

  He saw a tall man in dress uniform step out of the carriage. He was striking to look at, his face was sharp and told a story of many long years of harsh military life. The insignia on his coat marked him as an auxiliary commander, someone who was a very high rank in the royal army. Beneath only a legion commander who themselves were only beneath the generals of the royal army. He had well kept short vermillion red hair and beard. His brown eyes still held a sharp gaze of authority.

  Many of the villagers were speaking about how they were surprised someone like this was moving into their little village and not into a mansion in the cities.

  But they gasped when he turned and offered a hand to his wife, a beautiful woman wearing a dress. She had visibly worn hands, the hands of a worker and not the soft hands of a noble. Her hands trembled faintly for a moment until they landed in her husband’s and he gave her stability. She carefully stepped out of the carriage, long locks of auburn orange hair fell from her head and stark red eyes looked around at the village. Behind them was a kid in a shirt and vest. He had his father’s vibrant red hair and his mother’s equally vibrant red eyes. His father soon laid eyes on Akai and pointed him out to their son. Akai froze a bit, but smiled as the young boy soon came running over. Akai held out his hand and said “Hi, my name is Akai. What is yours?” and the kid approached and stood for a moment before taking Akai’s hand and shaking it.

  “My name is Kidd.”

  From the left rang out Lamorie’s giggle as she said “Kidd? You're a kid named Kidd?” as she approached with amusement on her face. Kidd’s face turned a bit red as he snapped back “hey, it’s not funny! I was named after my grandfather!”

  Akai couldn’t help but laugh a bit as the two got to know Kidd a little better. Asking him questions such as what his favorite food was, how old he is, and where he lived before this. They learned off of it and more.

  Over the next few weeks, Kidd slowly settled in and quickly became good friends with Akai and Lamorie. The two learned Kidd’s dream was to grow up and be as successful of a soldier as his father was. Lamorie wanted to become a master smith and work for the royal family. Becoming rich enough to let her parents retire and live like nobles.

  Akai himself remembered the dream he had the night before. He hadn’t really thought of what he wanted to be when he grew up, but he felt a calling to it. He wanted to become a heroic knight one day, to protect everyone from tyranny.