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Rated: E · Chapter · Fantasy · #2101990
The long coming 1st chapter of an epic tale devised by my brother & I (subject to change)
Rabente` panted heavily, running as fast as he could, with each stride of his legs starting to hurt like there were a tight grip around his calves. He could feel the heat from the sun above starting to make him sweat heavily, it drained him, and he hadn't been running for very long just yet either. He wanted to clutch at his chest to feel his heart racing but he couldn't afford to stop, not even for a moment. Trailing closely behind him were three boys only a little older than he was presumably, Rabente`s exact date of birth being somewhat of a mystery after all. Rabente` was just exiting the edge of town now, desperately pushing his way past a large man who seemed to have no business just standing in the middle of his path anyway. The large man scowled and swore as he eyed Rabente`s red cloak brushing past his midsection, but it was too late, Rabente` was all ready off, not that he would have cared much anyway. To the south side of the main road just outside of town, Rabente` knew the earth sloped down and would lead to a nearby river. Leading to the river there was dirt and stones everywhere, Rabente` now starting to feel the sensation of fire in the back of his legs, grabbed hold of the scabbard at his waist and pulled it up in front of him. This way it and it's contents would stay safe and close to him, while with his other hand quickly pulled his cloak under his hips as he leapt from near the side of the road to the downward slope where he landed with a painful jolt through his backside. Rabente` tucked his legs up closer to his midsection and slid down the slope, letting the rocks and other loose bits of dirt roll under his cloak. The gravel like soil beneath him ground against his lower back and rump a lot more than he thought it would. He grunted as he bared his teeth while sliding down the slope, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He felt the pain in his back side all ready starting to flare up like a bad wound does to salt, though he just gritted his teeth and kept going.

Rabente` could still hear the large man from earlier carrying on like the whole world owed him something, now in more of a heat as the three brigands who'd been on Rabente`s tail this whole time also came to the exit at the edge of town. The man wailed like a spoiled child who wasn't getting his way as others now also seemed to grumble from some distance away. Rabente` had skillfully managed to get through town without running into anybody until he came upon the large man. The noise of others becoming upset by hooligans running through the streets causing trouble told Rabente` that his pursuers were quickly closing the gap, Rabente`s heart raced, he hated this. Rabente` was in fact a very capable warrior you see, trained by actual Elven Dragon Knights no less, and had aptitude enough to be self-taught in the art of swordplay. Self taught as Dragon Knights traditionally wielded lances, not swords. Rabente` honestly considered himself a better wielder of the sword than his own mentor, the Dragon Prince himself, Manbarta, was with a lance. Though in terms of sheer experience and skill, Rabente` was little more than a shadow to Manbarta. Strangely enough, Rabente` never conveyed what he felt regarding this matter to his mentor.

Rabente` brought his legs back down and buried his elbow into stones beneath him, and with a very hard push, launched himself from the ground and back up onto his feet, trying not to wince at the pain of what he hoped wasn't bloody scars now along his lower back. Rabente` thought aloud with a sarcastic sort of smirk across his face "Oh the lengths i'll go to avoid a fight", now shaking his head as he forced his legs to carry his aching body to the edge of the river now in plain sight. He'd originally decided to take the slope to the river in hopes his assailants would absentmindedly continue their hunt along the main road, unfortunately it was't to be that simple. Rabente` supposed that his venture down the slope atop the rocks and stones had made too much noise for him to have successfully snuck away and to just disappear from sight. "He's down here!", he heard a voice cry out followed by the similar noise of rocks moving under peoples bodies. Rabente` hoped the three chasing him would prove less adept when it came to scaling the slope he himself had just tackled, maybe they would get covered in cuts and bruises worse than he just had, and give up? If nothing else, this would have to slow them down, maybe he could get such a distance on them in that time they'd run out of breath trying to catch up, he only hoped for the best and powered on, struggling to keep his breath.

"We know you live in the forest!", one of the three called out angrily from behind him, "don't think you can just run and hide, we'll follow you in there and kill you."
"How immature...", Rabente` muttered quietly to himself, now musing over what a terrible fate it would actually be for the three delinquents if they did follow him into the forest. Rabente` knew that he alone could handle the three on his own with ease. He'd even wager none of them'd ever had a days training with a blade of any kind. All of this trouble, the scars, the bruises, the pain in his legs, and the loss of breath. The humility of running for the hills from three lowly brigands was all for the sake of keeping things peaceful between the town and the forest. Rabente`, though confident in his own abilities, was not overly proud. Being the only man to live among elves, and raised by royals no less, the gravity of his responsibilities was not lost on him at all. For those of the forest (Elves) to come to town was never a problem, and happened with relative frequency. Some traders often visited, some teachers made the journey on a daily basis, and some elves just liked travelling from the forests to have a look, and to mingle with the people of town. It was a peaceful understanding between the order of men and elves, even if men rarely ventured to forests themselves, if ever at all, whether it be from lack of interest or otherwise it didn't seem to matter to anyone.

For as long as Rabente` could remember, he had always carried a reputation among those of the men around his age as being this strange outcast, a man raised by elves, and for some reason he never understood, they always hated him for it. Whether they were jealous of him, or just completely disgusted by his ignorance to the ways of what they may have considered to be his rightful background, he just plainly didn't know, and in time only came to feel sorry for them all, though he never expressed it. He continued running while trying to pace his breaths with his strides along the side of the river, water now starting to splash up where his feet would tread as he slowly started moving further down the bank as water crept up among the stones and pebbles around his boots. Up ahead he finally spied the bridge. Men, particularly younger men, typically did not cross the bridge, though elves crossed it all the time. The bridge lead directly back into the forest, and Rabente` was hoping very much now that the three would finally let up once he'd made it across, but now he wondered if they were really bluffing before when they said they would follow him in, they sounded angry enough to have meant it.

All Rabente` needed to do was get to the bridge and there couldn't be any more conflict (he hoped), it was a well established fact that if any trouble was started in the forest, then it was the fault of the silly individual who went in there. Rabente` felt the cries of his chasers on the back of his neck, now gaining on him as he remembered how he had been warned in the past many times by Manbarta, that if there were ever a conflict between he and another human outside of the forest, the elves would be held responsible, even if Rabente` wasn't the instigator. It made sense as Rabente` was a trained fighter and he would be expected to take responsibility and turn the other cheek, though he hated it. If they would just let him be, he wouldn't have to go to such lengths to avoid a fight. He could mingle around the town like the other elves do, and get to see a little more of the world than just the dark and repetitive forest he'd come to know as home since his infancy. He yearned for something new in his life, he wanted to learn about other places in the vast land of Finito. He'd never even met or seen a weinoc or a zodian in person, sometimes he wondered if such races even really existed, the world beyond the forest and this one neighboring town was all so unknown to him, he began to feel morose when suddenly he felt something hard flick against his right ear.

Clasping his hand quickly to where he'd been struck, the pain sharp but not terribly overwhelming at all, he then threw a fierce and now angered look behind him, where he saw the three who'd been chasing him. The two closest were roughly the distance of a stones throw away, which made a lot of sense to Rabente` as he soon realized he'd just been struck with a stone. He noticed the third of the three, a little more portly than his fellow brigands, somewhat further away from them, was now leaning forward and not running, but was following their tact and grabbing a hand full of stones from the shallow edge of the river. The two closest kept running, closing the gap as the third also started picking up his pace again, although he in particular looked very much out of breath. Rabente`s eyes widened as he lifted his arm across his face just in time to block another stone that may well have broken his nose otherwise. They were surprisingly accurate for three town boys Rabente` had just previously considered to be completely useless in a fight. Though not wanting to spend a great deal of time musing over how he'd under estimated them, as opposed to just getting back to the forest, he turned once more to face the direction of the bridge and and pushed off on his legs as hard as he could.

The three boys finally managed to close the gap between themselves and Rabente`, not stopping with their onslaught of rock throwing, to which Rabente` could only defend himself by shielding the back of his neck with his forearm. Though the occasional rock that would make contact with his body would strike him in the leg, or his lower back, which made him grunt every time after the abuse he'd just put himself through trying to escape down the slope leading to the river. All he could think of was how bad this was, how none of it was his fault but he'd be blamed if anything happened if he tried to defend himself any more than he all ready was. He thought to himself how he felt like he was an animal being hunted for sport... but no, this was different from hunting, at least it was different by his standards. Any time he went hunting with Manbarta in the forest, they treated their game with respect, shoot to kill, and be efficient. These three... it felt more like he were being chased by a group of over-grown house cats who were over fed and only wanted to tear something apart for the sake of it. Rabente` swallowed and tried to suppress these feelings of resentment as finally he came upon the bridge.

Almost starting to feel like it were finally over, he thought to himself he might just stay in the forest for the next month or two while things blow over and find an excuse to relax. He removed his forearm from the back of his neck, assuming his attackers had finally run out of stones as they hadn't thrown any for a few moments now. With both arms and great athleticism he pulled himself up to the side of the bridge, and leapt over the wooden railing with a single bound, aching all over but he was willing to put up with a little more punishment this close to home, though he would still have to make a trek someway through the forest to actually get to where he lives, at least he wouldn't be followed... The three who'd been chasing him, not as athletic as Rabente` were all scrambling up the nearby slope leading to entry way to the side of the bridge closer to town. The bridge itself was quite wide but the distance it traveled in length to reach the other side of the river was about the length of a small keep. All things considered, not much further now at all...

Resigning himself to victory, maybe a little too confident in himself as the three who'd hounded him for so long were all barely making it up to the bridge themselves, clearly exhausted from the chase, Rabente` couldn't help but smirk a little as he dropped his pace to a brisk walk. He was feeling almost a sense of elation at finally not needing to run anymore. He threw a glance behind himself, and there they finally were, all three of his pursuers standing side by side each other at the opening to the bridge, not moving. He would have visibly scoffed at them to rub in his little victory of escape, if he hadn't been forced to take a look of confusion instead. They were looking at him, all grinning and snickering at something. Rabente`s mouth hung upon a little, now puzzled and confused, when it suddenly made sense and he heard the unmistakable sound of foot steps up the other end of the bridge, a trap...

He slowly turned around, trying to keep his cool, though it was difficult. He was tired and in a bad mood. Covered now in scars and bruises, some he even made himself. The fatigue showed on his face and he could tell when he eyed the new threat on the other end of the bridge. Another three young men, also standing side by side of each other. The look on the one in the middles face was pure arrogance, over-confidence, and zealousness. Rabente` felt so angry, this wasn't his fault, he didn't deserve this. Rabente` found himself about midway across the bridge when the two groups started closing in on him. He fretted on the spot, what was he supposed to do? There was nowhere he could go now. No matter what, he couldn't harm any of them, it just wouldn't have been worth it considering what that would do to the elves, though he wanted to, he wanted to show them how dangerous their situation could be if he didn't need to hold himself back. It was low of them to do this, to have hidden just inside the forest to corner him like this. To outnumber him so unfairly after going to such lengths to tire him out first. They organised this... and as this fact dawned on Rabente` it started to make his blood boil.

All six of his pursuers now came within talking distance of him. Rabente` struggled to retain his composure as he said nothing, just eyeing them all off viciously, hoping they would all be full of hot air and maybe they'd be content to just try and scare him, but he was covered in enough bruises and scars all ready to know that it just wasn't going to be that easy. "You know what?", said the centre one with the zealous look in his eyes, clearly the ring leader to this whole outfit, pale all over and a big ugly grin on his mug. "I don't like you", he said flatly. "I really don't like you at all."
"We've never met." Rabente` replied coldly and with a piercing gaze at the poor excuse of a human being who was now puffing his chest out and forward, like some animal trying to become more threatening by enlarging it's appearance. "I-", Rebente` went to start when suddenly two of the boys behind him ran in from either side, the one on his right then stealthily pulling the sword from Rabente`s scabbard while he was distracted and in the same motion flung it over the edge of the bridge just as Rabente` turned to try and keep his back clear from as many of them as he could, and through the corner his eye noticed immediately what had happened as the culprit who'd disarmed raised his open palms up in front of himself as if to say it wasn't me.

Rabente`s heart pounded quickly in his chest, he stood there, shocked and wide eyed, he was surrounded and disarmed. He thought to himself that surely this wasn't his end, against these mongrels? Really? Rabente` adopted a defensive position, he tucked his elbows in around his rib cage and focused his eyes on whoever was standing closest to him, he reluctantly started to clench his fists as he brought them up in front of his face. He spread his legs just a little and lowered his center of gravity, despite being tired and sore, his form was excellent, he let out a long deep breath, and then they started to move in.

Before any of them could realize what was happening, the atmosphere around all of them had changed, almost instantly but then seamlessly as well. Like as if by some strange magic, everything went dark. This was different however from it simply being night, this darkness was strange, it was deep and as black as the deepest pits in Finito, the blackness echoed with what sounded like wails of people dying and also the sounds of newborns crying. No one moved, for sheer terror and confusion, Rabente` stood perfectly still, "what is-", cut off short again, Rabente` cried out as a miniature bolt of lightning struck the ground just in front of where he stood. The space began to tremble, it began to change, and as though from an alternate plain of existence, for but just a second flashed the face of... Odian? "Was that... the god of Death?". Where the face had been the space now trembled violently, and something seemed to be trying to come out of it. The six boys who'd cornered Rabente` here all fell to their knees and backed away in terror, and they looked not at the space in front of him... but directly at him, like as though they believed him to be the one doing this. Whatever was forming in front of Rabente` was now starting to take form, it was all a mess of colours and light now, taking form from an opened tear in space. The shape of it was long and flat, it looked like... "a swords hilt...?" Somehow, now feeling very brave, Rabente` extended his arm, shaking a little, and gently brought his fingers and wrapped them around the shape forming in front of him. With his touch, light shone and branched out from every direction of the strange item now forming in his hands. He gripped it, he felt it around his fingers and he knew, "This is a sword", he declared quietly to himself. And as the light emanated from its every surface, he could now make out the shape of it, sheathed neatly into the torn pocket of space. Brimming with new found confidence, not questioning how or why, he smiled, and with his grip firm, he pulled the sword from it's proverbial sheath, and it rasped loudly as he held it over his head in one hand, and with his other simply extended open palmed as if to catch the last remaining pieces of light that fell from the blade as the tear in space before him vanished, and all reality around himself and his six attackers began to return to normal, and the swords true appearance finally came into full view of everyone. The legendary weapon of The Guardian's Champion, the Generation Blade.
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