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There once was a man named Galahad. He was born from a blacksmith father and a tailor of a mother. He grew with the aspiration to be just like his dad. Their family life was kind and perfect.
That changed…
War. War struck his little village. His friends were killed before him, his parents as well. Only he was saved. He was hidden by his parents under a pile of his own friends corpses.
They smiled at him as they were killed by a sword strike through their midsection. Galahad watched his family die in front of him, killed by knights who bore a crown insignia.
When the village went still, he crawled out of his hiding place and cried out. He cried for the dead, his friends and his family. He vowed that day that he would kill those that bore the crown insignia.
In his anger, he inadvertently used magic and a blood red blade appeared in front of him. It was a beautifully made blade that would one day dance along the battlefield and made its wielder be as if he was dancing through the air.
He fled to the forests, to solitude. He trained alone and in 10 years he became a Saint ranked mage and a Knight ranked warrior. His body was built like the mountains near his forest training ground. Scars were all over his body from the times that he had to kill greater dragons that visited him day or night.
He set out to civilization and learned of those he had to kill. They were Aurelian Knights. Knights of the then great Kingdom of Aurelia.
Needless to say, “then great” had a reason. He alone, slaughtered all the knights of Aurelia. Killing them in great droves or through assassination. He was feared all throughout the land and everyone wanted him dead.
The enemies of Aurelia though, supported Galahad in the shadows. Aurelia was too powerful for them to openly support him.
He was grateful at the chance he was given and soon enough, he was down to the Ten Sigils of Aurelia, their ten greatest knights.
Confident in his abilities, he challenged them all, alone. He was brought to near death as his power was not enough. He was too confident and he fled in terror.
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The knights then thrashed the support that he gained which would backfire as even the populace of Aurelia wanted the regime to end.
Galahad, beaten and his pride shattered, ran to a ruined castle to rest and recover.
He was now 35, he was still young, he could still do the job as all he needed was time to rest. But fate had other plans…
He was visited that night by a robed man. The man was cloaked in shadows so it was hard to tell what he looked like. He offered power to Galahad, power that would make him strong, stronger than he was now.
Having been humiliated, Galahad took the words of the stranger as if they came from her mother’s breasts.
He signed the contract with their mana by binding it together. And this spelled his doom…
Immediately, the darkness turned crimson and he felt his whole body being racked by flames as well as cold but there were no flames nor were there any ice around.
He looked at the cloaked man and he saw him smile, a red colored smile as if it was waiting to devour him. Galahad felt dread and he couldn’t move. His vision was clouded in red and then gone…
He felt nothing. He saw nothing. He heard nothing. His senses were gone. The darkness was the only thing that comforted him.
When next he awoke, he saw his savior. A child. But it was this child who saved him from the darkness. He knew not his past but his name and his skill with a sword. All this he knows and he pledged to himself to serve his savior for as long as he could for he always paid others back.
He questioned himself, Always paid others back?
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