"Hiagh!" The blade whistled throught the air, speeding toward its target. At the last second it was caught by the defenders long knife. Turning the blow to his left, the leather clad youth launched a furious series of counter strikes forcing his opponent back. After a singularly powerful strike caused the defender to stummble backwards and fall. Taking advantage of his opening the young man darts forward shouting "Yield!". Suddenly the fallen fighters foot shot out and pulled the young man's legs out from under him and sending him crashing to the ground. "Damit! How the hell do you always do that?" he shouted in exasperation. A musical laughter escaped from beneath the defenders face mask. She removed her face plate and helm and turned and looked at the young man she had just bested. "Well, Bax if you did'nt leave yourself so wide open you might be able to keep your on feet more often" she said with a grin. "Baxen, Flairen!" a gruff bass voice called across the combat ring, "Get off your tails, and get over here, NOW!". Baxen heaves himself up with a groan, and turned and helped Flairen to her feet. "Come on Master Karte calls!" Grasping his hand firmly she rises gracfuly and pushes her long, glossy brown hair out of her face and brushes the sand off her leather sparing armor. In front of her stands a grinning Baxen, "Beautiful and deadly." he said. And beautiful she was, stunningly so. She was tall and Lith with Broze skin and a kind child like face. But purhaps her most startling feature were her eyes. They were bright and inteligent and seem far older than her years, but most most startling of all, her right eye was a deep Saphire blue as deep as a still forest pool, while the left eye was as bright and virdiant green as an emerald held up to the sun. She gave Baxen a charming smile and punched his shoulder. "Lets go ," she said "Master Karte seems to be turning a lovely shade of beet red we had better hurry!". "Aye, more scullery duty is the last thing I need, and if we keep him waiting to much longer he'll give me a week!" muttered Baxen as they ran across the sand ring to Karte's side. They arived panting, and bowed respectfully to Karte. "Yes Master, you wished to see us?" they said in unison, "Yes, today we are reciveing two new students, and as members of our first class and aprentice Blade-Masters you have an obligation to be present at their induction ceramony, and... niether of you are properly atired" he told them, frowning disaprovingly. "you two need to Bathe and don your formal garb. The ceramony begins soon. That means MOVE!" he barked. "Yes, master. Right away!" they both said as they bowed. Then they turned and raced off in the direction of the aprentices' living quarters. Chuckleing as he watched them go, Karte turned to the figure standing hidden in the darkness of the cave-way behind him. "Are they satisfactory, My Lord?" Karte asked the man veiled in shadows. "Satisfactory would put it lightly." the man stated with supressed enthusiasm." I've seen few swordsmen at the peak of their abilities who could match these children. You say they're only sixteen? Amazing. Yes their martial skills are un-matched. But there it a distinct diffrence between the dueling arena and the battle field. Have they ever been tested in a true battle?" Karte looked uncomfatorable and struggled to answer the mans question. Finaly he said "No, but they are unmatched in the sparing arena. The only one capable of defeating either of them is their counterpart." The man sighed "There is no comparing life or death combat to the arena. Many seasoned ring fighters would not be able to handle the pressure of fighting for their lives. Before I am certain they are the ones I want, they must be tested in live combat." "What!" Karte exclaimed. "They may be highly skilled, but they've never killed anyone before. They're just children!" The man stared out of the darkness, his gaze deep and penatrating. "Master Karte, were I to take these 'children' and implement them, only to find out that they were incapable of killing, one of the most basic needs for their profesion, then what would I do? No Im afraid there is no other choice, they must be confronted, and soon." The man paused in thought " You said there was a ceramony tonight?" the man asked. " Yes, an induction for new aprentices here at the academy. Its a very festive ocasion." confirmed master Karte. "Good," said the man "I will arange for a little suprise tonight. I will hire a group of assasins to kill only those two, if they sucseed then they are proficient, if they dont..." the man left the consequences of failure unspoken. Master Karte blanched at this but quickly saw the need of what the man said. "Alright I understand, and if we can be of any asistance just let us know." master Karte told the man. " Good, Im glad that you can understand the dire need of these times. I must leave now if I am to have all ready in time for tonight. Farewell". With the florish of his cape the man disapeared down the dark passage way. "What have I just done?" Karte asked himself, his voice full of pain.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The lanterns in the hall cast a gentle light against the stone walls, veins of quarts and other minerals traced across them in intracate patterns across the rock. Standing off to one side was Baxen. His short brown hair was still wet from his recent bath and curly. In the light cast by the lanterns it took on a slightly reddish tint. He stood at about six feet and had muscular build. his face and arms were covered with freckles and his eyes were a deep blue, filled with mirth and inteligence. His fore arms were incased in mail backed leather bracers and he wore a pair of black leather breeches and a black leather vest with paterns of dragons in flight inlaid in silver. Under the vest he wore a dark blue tunic. Strapped across his back was a fine longsword. The sheath was made of black leather and it also had silver dragons soaring across it. The hilt and cross gaurd were in the shape of a dragons head and wings worked in steel and inlaid with gold and two shining saphires for the dragon's eyes. It was just as much a work of art as a weapon. He wore a pair of long knifes across the insides of his fore arms and another pair at his waist. All together it gave him a terrifying look. He stood leaning against the wall across from a closed heavy oaken door, waiting. After a short while the door creaked open and Flairen setped out. She was resplendid in a pair black leather leggings, a black leather doublet and black leather bracers. Her doublet was covered in pheonixes inlaid in silver, and across her back she wore a pair of thin longswords. their sheaths were made of red leather and had pheonixes worked into them. The hilts and cross guaurds were in the shape of pheonixes in flight, with their wings spread wide and worked over with gold. Under the leather doublet she wore a blood red tunic clinched at the waist with a belt cunningly wrought from a series of hoops. She wor a pair of long kinfes on her belt as well as the pair she had straped to her wrists just like Baxen. Her luxuiriant hair had been elegantly braided and swung between her shoulders. "Comon Bax, we had better hurry or we'll be late!" she told him. "Right," Baxen said "Lets go!" so together they took off in the direction of the main hall. As they passed throught the labyrinth of passages and caves that contained the academy the saw few other students. When they neared the hall though, they found that everyone was already ariving. They hurried to their seats, catching disaproving glaces from Master Karte as they passed. " Whew we cut that one alittle close!" Baxen sighed. " Yeah but I would rather be late and look prepared than be early and look bad." Flairen replied tartly. The main hall was an impressive display of craftmanship. One entire wall was a single sheet of quarts polished untill it was as clear as glass, and on the other side lay the waters of the lake. The celling vaulted high over head and the other three wals were covered in murals depicting the great deeds of the Kalinre monks. Crystal chandelires hung from the ceiling and cast a strong light in the huge hall. Servers were spread throughout the room carrying platters ladden with steaming hot meats and vegatables. Baxen called over one of them and filled his plate and began to tear into it. As the evening passed He noticed that Flairen hadn't eaten very much."Hey, whats wrong Fal? You've barly touched your food. Thats not like you" She pointed and said " Do you see those three men sitting over there? The ones in the dark green." Baxen looked where she pointed. " Yeah what about them?" She glanced at Baxen and then back at the men." They have been watching us sice they came in, and they are starting to get very nervous. they wont make eye contact with me." She suddenly stood up. " Common Bax, I need some fresh air these caves are starting to get to me." Baxen got to his feet aswell and followed her, muttering about his stomache.  

The sun was just rising over the Mountains that surounded the valley, sending beams of light skittering across the lake waters like glistening spears. The forest surrounding the lake shone with a healthy green luster, and the fields of wheat that covered the sides of the valley swayed like a sea of liquid gold in the morning wind. The people of the little town that called this sheltered piece of paridise home were just begining to rise. They were a, if not quite wealthy, well off town. There was always plenty, even in the depths of winter and the poorest family in the town owned a sturdy wooden home and land to farm, several horses and a wagon to carry their goods to market. This was Arten, a peacful mountain town in what was once the kingdom of Ferin, now a providence of the Shadow Nation. They paid their tribute every month and never troubled Dea-lords, so they were left well enough alone. They held no real intrest for the Deaga-lord or his minions, to them it was just another village of inbred farmers and trapers. The people of Arten would not want it any other way. There were many trades practiced in Arten ranging from farming and fishing, weaponsmithing and artistry, and many other highly skilled crafts. Yet unbeknowst to the Dea-lords, hidden in the extensive cave complex beneath the ridge that surrounded the valley, lay the pride of Arden and the hope for a future free of the Shadow-Nations tyrany. Within these caverns lay the Ardentian academy. The academy was a school dedicated to the martial arts, and the preservation of the history of Cartania. The greatest warriors in the land werebrought in under the tightest of secrecy to teach the childern of the village the ways of the sword to prepare them for the war that they knew was comming. Very few people outside of Arden knew of the academys existance, among the were the lord and lady Gaffan. Truth be told the academys existance was due almost entirly to them. Gaffan founded the academy sixteen years ago in memory of the infant son he lost. He also provided the funds for arms and teachers and helped throw up a smoke screen to help keep the school secret. His only commands of the school were that they train in secrecy, did not atempt to start confrontations with the Shadow Nation, and that they would gather, care for and train children orphaned by the Shadow Nation. Upon the founding of the school he had already colected a group of twenty infants and these have been raised by the swords masters and the town folk as their own. Since they were submersed in the ways of war since they children, while some are not even in their seventeenth year, they are already masters of the sword. Their numbers started as twenty but as tim passed their numbers grew and grew till there were well over 3000 Ardentian diciples. This is the our army Gaffan had told the people of Arden at the founding of the academy. And what an army it was...

The dimmly lit room smelled of sweat and blood as the tiny cries of an infant rose and fell, as though the babe were singing praises to life. The mother lay exausted on the bed, having been in labor for many hours. Yet as drained as she was, she was also elated to have brought life into the world. Her husband rushed into the room once he heard the baby's cry and he broke down in tears of joy at his newborn son. The man was tall and muscular, with a sharply hansom visage and tightly croped blonde hair. He wore a crimson cape and calve length boots, and was dressed in the rich garments of someone of emense power and wealth. He could have been clothed in beggars rags and people would still have defered to him, for more than any garment he could wear his bearing told you that there was somthing special about this man. He is king Andre Gaffan, formerly of the knigdom of Ferin, now a steward of a providence of the Shadow Nation. Upon concoring all of Cartania, the deaga-lord had no desire to spend time on the minor issues of running an empire as large as his so he let the goverment system stay in place except that everyone was answerable to him. When king Gaffan came and stood beside his wife, who was holding their child now, the baby stared up at his father and cooed. "What are we going to name him?" Gaffan asked his wife. " Denthrix" she said smiling down at the child. then, sudenly a haunted look came onto her face and she slowly turned the babe on its back and pushed away the blanket he was swathed in, her horror growing to alarming levels. Her voice trembling she said softly "Oh no gods, don't let it be so..." Disturbed by his wife's sudden mood swing he aksed her "Dear one what is it? Vaneal tell me! Whats the matter?" Slowly she pointed to a strange shaped mark on their sons back. It spread from one shoulder to the next. The mark  was black as night and stood in sharp contrast against the babes pale skin. The thing that was most peculiar about the mark was its shape. Wings. It was clear by the clarity of the shape that it was not natural. Vaneal stared off into oblivion, lost in thought. Suddenly she turned to Gaffan and said in a desperate voice"He must be taken away from here and put somwhere safe from notice until he comes of age! It is the only hope!" Startled by his wifes outburst, King Gaffan took a step back. "What do you mean 'The only hope'? Whats going on? Tell le whats going on! Vaneal! What is the matter?" She continued to stare at him but her expresion lost some of its fierceness. "I can't tell you. It would endanger any chance he has, any chance we have, of a future..." A infuriated expresion came over Gaffan's face " What! you are my wife! Have I ever denied you anything? Ever treated you as anything less than my equal? We have ruled side by side for years and yet now, after all we have been through, you tell me to send away my first born son, heir to my throne! And on top of that, you refust to tell me why!" As he was speaking he began to grow more and more flushed in the face as his anger grew. Vaneal looked him straight in the eye, and in a quiet, athorative voice Said to him " it involves one of the prophesies of the Kalinre order." All the color drained from Gaffans face his anger replaced by fear and foreboding. "Are you sure?" he wispered. A sorrowful look came across her face "without a doubt, he is spoken of clearly." she looked at her son. Gaffan looked down at the boy, " I will see to it that a home is made ready." he gave her a meaningful look "It is so unfortunate that you lost the child during the birth..." at first she didn't understand but then an expresion of comprhension came over her face " Yes it is. His death will be mourned" Gaffan turned with a florish of his cape, and left the room. Vaneal looked down at Denthrix and began to cry.

Hey this is the first time I've let people read any of my books and I would realy apriciate any feed-back you can provide so I can make the story better. So just tell me what you honestly think. It would mean alot to me. Thanks

 Sky Blade

With almost all resistance against his armies quelled, the Deaga-lord thought he was asured a quick victory, with only four Kalinre monks left they posed no real threat to him, reguardless of their strength. After his victory over the monks he decided to crush any remaining hope the people had, and in a most cunning way. He struck a horrible blow to the peoples spirits by claiming the Kalinre temple high in the Faidlah mountains. He built his crown city of Aoundorun around the temple which the people began to call Hells Gate, for evils the likes of which had never been seen on this earth before began to inhabit the lands around the temple. It was the greatest mockery he could bestow upon the land, ruling with a dark Iron fist and despare where once all the lands hope and justice stemmed. The last remaining Kalinre monk were infuriated by this blatant disrespect and defiling of their sacred home, yet resigned to the fact that there was nothing they could do. So they contiued their search for the chosen one. All across the land they searched from the southern sea to the frozen wastes of the north they never stoped their searching. During this time the Shadow Nation was setleing down in their new home, never to return to their homeland in the west. In all truth it must be said that the Shadow nation is not inherently evil, and their actions began as an act of nesesity, for their land had been strikened by a terible blight that rendered the ground compleatly infertile and useless and the Nations people were dying from lack of food. Having no-where else to turn, the Shadow people sought the help of they're neighbors from across the Danmalont mountains. The people of Cartania welcomed the Shadowlanders with open arms. At this time there was an uprising in the military of the Shadowlands. An upstart general by the name of Rand Mastelante had, seeking the power to over throw the Shadowlands Monarchy, fused himself with the soul of an ancient evil,a necromancer by the name of Necalithion. In doing so he gained the power over the dead and unimaginable strength with it. Yet he was also responsible for the death of his homeland, for when he released Necalithion's soul from its prison he also unleashed a super condensed wave of pure evil and before he captured the necromancers soul the land had already begun to wither away. The dark plauge spread un-controlably and within months there were no green plants to be seen for miles around and the greater part of the population had fled across the mountains and into Cartania. Those loyal to Mastelante who had travled with him to help preform the release ritual recived such an extream exposure to the evil energy that they were endowed with some of the necromancer's powers as well. They imeadiatly swore their eternal fidelity to Mastelante and began to build a new empire from the ashes of the old since their home land had died they were no longer Shadowlanders they were a kingdom without a land and they then named themselves the Shadow Nation. As the years passed the memory of those horrible events faded from the peoples minds and the Shadowlanders who were not loyal to Rand and his new empire had mixed with the populations of the various kingdoms of Cartania and began to forget their roots across the mountains. Several generations passed with the innocent people of Cartania oblivious to events ocurring across the mountains. While the Cartanian population was sitting idle and enjoying the peace of a land long removed from war, a land where the warriors trade had not been widely practiced in centuries, except for the few small armies and militias used to protect cities and villages from roaming bandits, Rand Mastelante, now known as the Deaga-lord was gathering armies to him, preparing to leave his blighted homeland for the furtile, bountiful Cartania. He had used his power over the darkness to purify only enough land to feed his growing army and their families. His legions growth was exponential, fore he used his powers over death to stop the aging of his soldiers once they compleated their training so while other lands would only have a single generation of warriors to stand against him he would have the backing of four generations of fully trained and equiped soldiers. When he was satisfied he was well enough prepared he led his troops across the Danmalont mountains. The Shadow armies blew aside all resistance, like a black wind from the west they howled. Then... they met with a resistance the likes of which they could never have foreseen. They ran into the Kalinre monks. The monks held off the Shadow armies for many years, but their number was just to small to truly stop the Shadow legions. Things continued in this fashion untill the monks were so depleated they could not meet the Shadow nation in staged combat, and the last remaining monks retreated into hidding to await the arival of the savior the prophecy had promised them. "The Fate chosen and the winged blade shall banish the shadows and raize the Dark Nation to the ground. Look to his coming when the dark tide floods the land and the guardians of the living steel number six. The Dark Light shall be marked  by the heavens and will recive the Sky Blade when he has lost the light and embraced the dark. It shall save him as he will save us all." So reads the prophecy. The Kalinre seek the one though they number only four, five if you would include the Dark Light himself so perhaps the prophesy has already been voided and we are all doomed to remain slaves of the Deaga-lord for all eternity... Gods why have you abandoned us?....

The dark tide was  enveloping the land in sickness and sorrow and people were falling before it like wheat before the scythe, with the dea-lords as the harvesters. The kings and lords of the land were terified of the Dea-lords wrath and most knelt before them with no resistance at all those who did stand were given no quarter, shown no mercy but that of a quick death. The only reason that the Dea-lords had been held at bay for so long was the unhuman might and vigilance of the Kalinre and their living weapons, and these warriors of the people were dying off fast as the war continued. So very few of the monks were still able to fight, but fight they did and they wrought a terrible vengance upon the Shadow Nation and their armies. Yet it was to no avail the monks were compleatly wiped out, all except for the four of their greatest warriors. These were Lucia Heclevant of the ax Tempest , Mortanal Vicrit of the spear Cain, Deamon Niage of the sword Tachani, and Kealin Heathman, the leader of the Order of the Monks of Kalinre and weilder of the great bow Kalinteries. Upon realizeing that they were the only monks left they decided to go into hidding and await the arival of the Dark Light, the swordsman that the sacred legends of the Kalinre fortold of. Acording to the prophecy the Dark Light would be sent to Cartania in an age when Shdow ruled the land and the people were in their greatest need. He would be known as the greatest of all the Kalinre higher even than the Deaga-lord himself the ruler of darknes, yet if he should chose wrongly his desiny is unknown for the gods feared to meddle in this issue. The prophesy said that he would be marked from birth by the gods and when the fates brought him to the Sky Forge they would grant him a partner unlike any ever seen before it. As its partner did, it would also bare the mark of the heavens, a winged sword, the legendary Sky Blade.

The last of the Kalinre realized that the young monk would need teachers in the way of the blade or he would be slaughtered like a new born lamb before the Dea-lords might. So they hid away to await the arival of the savior. Shortly after the destruction of the Kalinre the last of the Cartanian kingdoms surendered to the Shadow Nation for they knew all was lost without the Monks of Kalinre, and they chose to live and serve instead of fight and die. As the years passed you could not say that the last four of the greatest warriors to ever live, were sitting idle while the people they were sworn to protect died as slaves of the Deaga-lord. durring their time in hidding they would periodicly begin searching for the one who fates had named the Dark Light. While they searched they would inflict as much harm to the Shadow Nation as possible and they became known as the four winds of the apocolypse, fore they would always travle seperatly when searching, one would go to the North, one to the South, one to the East, and one to the West. They protected those they could and avenged those they couldn't. They seemed untouchable,  fueled by a righteous rage. If the shadow Gaurds heard them coming they fled in terror. But after thirteen years of searching and seeing no results, they began to lose heart had the gods truly abandoned them? Would they die with the prophecy unfufilled? Where was the Dark Light...

My fated tale begins as it ends fore the events of the past shall repeat once again. The dark tide was sweaping across the land, carrying away all who stood against them. The people of Cartania had lost all hope for a salvation. Their gods had abandoned them to the fury of the Shadow nation and its Dea-lords, and their heros were either struck down or converted. Enmass the people of Cartania were bowing down to the Dea-lords and their armies. No-one and nothing stood before the Shadow nation and complet dominion over Cartania. Nothing, that is except an order of monks who lived high in the mountains of Faidlah. These monks where the greatest wariors in the land they were living legends among the poor they protected and struck fear into the hearts of the Shadow legions,  and the wariors of the Shadow nation had good reason to fear them, to fight a single monk was though you were fighting 100 men who had lost all they held dear and nothing left to live for. They were the epitome of all that was just and right and fought with blades wrought from steel sent to them from the gods. If the wariors were dangerous they were nothing compared to their wepons, wether they be knife, sword, spear, mace, club, ax, or lance they each were alive, with a mind of their own and a life force deeply conected with their weilder's own. Each monk, when they came of age was brought to the sacred ground of the Sky Forge, where the gods paired him or her with their partner. Upon aquireing their partner they were finaly granted status of Kalinre monk the most honored rank in the land, kings and queens bowed before them. Though roalty bowed before them, monks of Kalinre bowed back just as low, for they are humble and dislike the need of using their rank to achieve results, prefering to go about their buissnis quietly and unabtrusively. They moved in the shadows and were the final judges in matters, if a Kalinre declared it, then it was so, and they had no fear or reluctance of using their power when it became necisary. These  monks were all that stood against the Shadow armies for as long as anyone can remember but now there are few left and our last sheild will soon be gone. Gods spare us.....