A man's legacy, the only thing left behind after a man has departed. I may have become the Bringer of Peace, champion of justice, trying to bring back the old gods and goddess. Those of the Moon, who are not all evil, those of the sun, the earth, the stars, the sky, and most beloved among them all to me, Dycrus. My legacy is not that though, as it should be, mine is a of hate and pain, of sorrow and death. I can see my legacy's work when I step by a farmhouse, children coware in fear, women run to protect their babies, men arm themselves and chase me down the roads. I could easily killed them, after all I am Kurgen, trained in the arts of war and leadership. I have seen and killed more men then most well ever see. I would find it no problem to dispatch those of lesser skill, save the fact I answer to someone higher then me. I allow them their chance ot brag of their chasing away the 'Great Destroyer of Dreams'. The only thing that hurt is I know bards will not sing the song of how I myself alone with my green gladius defeat Ravan incarnate, they will not tell of my adventures but of my sorrows. Unless an heir is choosen...
****** "You can see him can't you?" questioned the muscular man stepping through the door. "Of course father," said a younger, more slendar man staring out a window. Even from the highest tower from this mighty castle the magical cloak could be seen in the village. Many a soldier had been wasted trying to stop him, someone where killed, others converted. This strange man with magical powers was unbeatable. "Bringer of Peace is what they chant now, not the name of their King Fryqust, as they should," said the boy turning from the window. "An unarmed man will conquer our small kingdom in Avestia, your family established this kingdom and he destroys it," said the man spitting out the window wishing he was brave enough to do it to the man's face. "It was said his cloak can change to any armor he needs and his hands are like unto hardened swords..." said the boy only to have a yell interrupt him. "DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND, HE WILL KILL US ALL, ALL IN THE NAME OF DYCRUS!" yelled Fryqust hoping he would be heard," NEVER EVER GO NEAR HIM BOY, LEAST HE TURN EVEN YOU AGAINST ME!" He just stormed out of the room, leaving his son in utter shock. He knew, his father was scared, scared out of his mind. ***** Kurgen may have never heard the yell but the doves, servant of Dycrus did. They made sure their master's only remaining servant got the word. "I bring peace as Dycrus commands, I don't even carry a weapon," exclaimed an annoyed Kurgen to himself. "The king cares not, you threat him with words and not swords, he doesn't know how to fight them," said the old man appearing from no where. "I wasn't aware I addressed the question to you," snapped Kurgen. "I guide you through your entire life of service and this is the respect I get!" exclaimed the man feigning angry. "Yes, but tell me, who will you guide when my bones are nothing more then dust blowing on the breeze?" questioned Kurgen with a smile returning to his severe face. "I don't know, some warlord with his way lost. I might guide him through the forest of Parcines and show him to the old temples, maybe he'll learn there," joked the man with a laugh. "There will never be another like me," laughed Kurgen with a sly grin. "And there has never been another like me, Dycrus doesn't like everyone being exactly the same after all," laughed the man sitting down. "I guess, but when is it my turn to teach, I still grow quite old..." Kurgen tried to say but a hand silenced him. "Your answer is about to walk right through that door," said the man as the door burst open. "Two against ten, pretty even odds," counted Kurgen, though he didn't need to turn to see his friend gone, again. "I am the King's son Trinamin, surrender yourself to me and my men, or face the blade," said a young boy stepping forward. "I see, a great honor this is, Kurgen, Bringer of Peace, Servant of Dycrus, Wielder of the Green Gladius, Ravan-bane [Kurgen's favorite part of his title, not every man has defeated an incarnated version of the Unraveller], and of course Servant of the Old gods," said Kurgen confiedently standing and bowing low. "I know of your supposed feats of valor, but now taste the iron of the future king," said the boy just as confidently, after all ten of his best guards were behind him. After hearing this they charged, two were immediately knocked down as Kurgen swiftly kicked their unarmed groins. "Guess your men are male," chuckled Kurgen dodging an overly wide swing. He grabbed the arm of the one guard and twisted it, throwing the man's body into the side wall. The next one he twisted the arm again, pulling the sword free. Using the quick reflexes of a Warlord always watching his back for a dagger, he turned his hips and parried a blow swinging it out wide. Without his defenses Kurgen's quick slash across the stomach ended his fighting spirit. Without another thought he sent his sword through the chest of two other guards. The rest just ran away from the invincible man. "I will finish you then!" yelled the boy charging forward. A blunt blow to the head stopped him. "See, I wasn't going to let you fight alone," laughed the old man carrying his green quarterstave[similair to Kurgen's gladius, it to could transform to any weapon]. "Why did you leave him alive?" questioned Kurgen seriously. "I wouldn't want to kill your new student, now would I," the man laughed at Kurgen. "But..." he couldn't finish the sentence as the fimilair feeling overcame him. He was turning to sand, to have the wind carry him, but where?
[to be continued]