Chapter One

The Awakening

"There are strange goings on around here," a villenger whispered to another.

"I know, what with that Ranger wandering around doing who knows what. If he ever crossed my path I would show him what's what!" the other replied.

Another villenger who was listening in on their conversation stated, "He has nothing to do with anything that goes on around here, he is just caught up in it all. Besides, he's young. He doesn't have a clue what is happening in the world outside him. All he thinks about is himself."

After the first two villengers exchanged looks of confusion they turned to the other. "You actually know him?" on inquired.

The visitor faced the confused pair. "Why, no! No one ever talks to that one! I rely my story on word-of-mouth."

The other two looked at eachother and sighed.

*********************

Across the sandy road the horse ran while kicking up dirt and baying its head from side to side. It's wild mane tossed about in the breeze without a tangle. Its hair was the complete opposite of its rider.

Cloaked in black, with a handkerchief covering his mouth and nose, and with a cold stare piercing through the darkness by steely blue eyes.

He went by many names. Some called him a Thief, a Rebel. Most referred to him as a Ranger...

He raced through the night until he came to a sleepy villege called Sheathton. The Ranger's horse slowed to a halt at the village gate door.

"Who goes there so late at night? What are you up to?" a guard yelled from the gate.

The Ranger called out in a clear, rough, voice, "I am here on behalf of business held within the walls. I must report to the tavern and I am afraid I am late."

The guard eyed the stranger then shrugged. "Although you don't seem like them hero types you may enter, but I assure that if you cause any trouble you will be severely punished!"

The Ranger nodded in reply and rode into the village once the door was opened.

Outside of the Tavern, he tied the reins of his horse to a log of wood on the pile of firewood outside and then went inside the tavern.

The Tavern was busy with many drunks and filled with a film of heavy smoke from pipes. The Ranger coughed a bit to relieve his lungs alittle from the smoke.

At one end of the Tavern sat a fat, jolly figure with a tattooed face and a long beard. The Ranger walked up to the man.

"Ah! If it isn't Aren in person! What took you so long?" the man said at sight of the Ranger.

The Ranger sat down next to the fat man and lowered his head. "It seemed as though the Kryldorians haven't been as coopertive as I thought they would be."

The fat man laughed and his whole fat body shook when he did so. "You actually think that the Kryldorians would cooperate? Haven't you heard?"

The Ranger shook his head.

"Ever since King Tyrell took the throne, the Kryldorians have been attacking the serfs up in the farms at that end of the realm. It is as if the entire world has turned on eachother. Next thing we know, the chickens will chop our heads off and serve us for dinner!" As the fat man said that, he gave a wide eyed expression and gazed around to see if anyone else heard him say that.

The Ranger stayed silent.

"Well, were you able to get the booty from the farmers?" the man asked.

"Not exactly. They were just as coopertive as the Kryldorians."

A look of pure terror showed on the fat man's face. "You asked them to give you their booty?"

The Ranger smirked. "Of course I did! I wouldn't just take it out of their homes, especially after the Kryldorian invasion."

The look of terror immediately turned to a scowl. "You dare to tell me that you weren't able to get it?!"

The man gave another smirk. "Of course not. With your rotten quests, you are just putting this world even more into devastation than it already is."

"Are you telling me that you quit?" the man said with a rather concerned look, "You are our best warrior! We need you!"

The Ranger turned and started to head up the stairs. The fat man waddled behind him. "You can't quit!" he screamed after him but the Ranger was already up the stairs and well out of earshot behind a door.

******************

The Kryldorian invasion was a disaster. Seven thousand innocent lives could have been saved that day if it weren't for me. I have quit now to live my life like I have lived it most of my life, an outsider.

The Ranger put down his pen and glanced at his words on the piece of paper in the book. He regretted everything that happened that day. He lowered his head in shame and closed the book.

Solemly, he removed the cloak and handkerchief from his body, kicked off his boots, and took off his shirt. After he was comfortable, he sat on his bed and breezed through the pages off the book he was writing in. Memories flashed in front of his eyes. Each one leading up to the invasion by the Kryldorians.

He stopped at one in particular. It read:

Brother was taking me on a large trip. He told me that after mom and dad's death, it was the only thing to keep me alive. He told me, "Aren, you will be better than Mom and Dad. You will be the best of all the heros in the land." I did not know what he meant when he said that.

Aren. That was his name. The name before he became known as a Ranger. He longed to forget everything that happened so far and start new. Suddenly, he turned to the fireplace. In it, a fire crackled and burned. Then it came to him. Aren quickly tossed the book into the flame and it burned.

Before Aren went to bed, he gazed into the mirror next to his bed. In it, he saw a man of twenty-three. A scar ran from his brow to his cheek. He touched it gently and remembered the painful memory behind it. Then, he glanced at his pitch black hair. It hung lifelessly on his head. He was unable to get a haircut or even comb it. It was rough and messy. He sighed at his appearance and at the scratches on his chest and arms. What Aren did notice was that the lattice work tattoo on his check and black went untouched. No scar ran through them or around them. It was as if the tattoo protected that area. Aren found that odd, shrugged and climbed into bed.

******************

Aren began to feel himself get warm and then very hot. He wiped beads of sweat from his forehead and opened his eyes. To his horror, flames surrounded him.

He rushed to floor and grabbed his shoes. It was all he could grab before a flaming beam from the cieling crashed down on his bed.

Quickly, he darted out the door and ran through the hallway. As he ran, he heard muffled screams. A wave of panic ran through him. He stopped and opened a door where the screams were coming from. Inside, he found a wall of flames. From the other side came shouts from a child and a woman.

There was no other way around the flame so he grabbed his head and dove through the flame. The trapped people on the other side looked relieved to see him and rushed to him. "There is no other way out!" The woman screamed. The children had tears on their faces. Each face blackened with ash from the fire.

With one arm, he slung a child over his shoulder and grabbed the woman's hand. As he did so, a beam fell through the wall creating a huge hole in the wall. "This way!" he screamed over the roaring of the flames.

Aren jumped through the hole. The woman stopped as a large flame was building underneath. "I can't!" she cried.

Aren quickly placed the child on the floor and reached over the fire and picked up the woman. He pulled her over the flame and onto safe ground. He grabbed the child and the woman once more and ran down the long burning hallway.

They ran as fast as they could but suddenly, a wall collapsed and blocked the stairs. "We're trapped!" the woman cried.

Aren put the child back down and told the woman to step aside. He quickly pounded the floor as hard as he could until it collapsed. "The only way is to fall through this hole to the ground floor." Aren explained.

The woman ran up to him and clinged to Aren. Aren held the child over his shoulder like before and jumped through. He crashed very hard on the bottom floor and the woman landed ontop of him. The child quickly got to her feet, grabbed her mother's hand and they both ran out of the burning tavern.

Aren was about to lift himself from the floor but the burning building collapsed.

Smoke filled the area and blurred the ones who watched's view of the scene. On the side, the woman stood, her child clinging to her side, crying.

Amongst the startled villagers came "Did he make it?" "There is only one left inside" "He got crushed by the tavern."

The child looked to the horrible sight and then up towards his mother. "Did our savior make it?"

The woman gathered a tear on her eye and wiped it quickly. "I am sorry...but-" .

Suddenly, the smoke clearned and to everyone's suprise Aren came stumbling out. His legs looked as though they were broken a thousand times and his arms did not move but somehow, he kept on walking.

He had burn marks all over his uncovered body and his hair was singed. But all he did was walk.

The villagers errupted in applause for the hero of the woman and her child and for his amazing survival.

"There we go, Ranger!" "Good job, Ranger!" "I feel safe with him around!"

Aren ignored the applause and kept on walking. He walked right passed them and towards his horse who waited for him patiently. Somehow, it broke free and was running around. He heaved himself onto his horse with on arm and kicked its sides heavily. Without a word he disappeared into the darkness.

*******************

"Now truly, you must say that Ranger is a good fellow," said the first villager.

"Never doubted that for a second," said the second.

"Always thinking about other people!" the third one replied.

Back