Fredrick awoke to throbbing pain. His side felt as if it had been ripped asunder. Groggily looking around he remembers the past events that had lead to this current situation. He remembered being mugged by bandits, he remembers the thunder overhead, he remembers the fight with the bandits. Then it gets hazy. The last memory Fredrick had was of a cloaked reaper coming for his life. After that he remembers nothing. Sitting up and looking around Fredrick found himself to be in the back of a jostling caravan, he was lying on some sheets atop of crates of goods. It was the bumping of the caravan that had awoken him. Getting up, tinges of pain ran through his body. Sunlight filtered through the flimsy canvas of the wagon. Looking to his left he saw a bare chested youngster laying next to him. This boy looked to be in his mid teens, a black cloak lay under his head. A wet rag lay upon his sweating brow, overlapping a bandage that wound it's way round the boys head. His left arm was supported by a makeshift splint and his shoulder was completely wrapped in bandage just like the crown of his head. His armour that had been taken from him by the bandits lay on his other side, gleaming in the filtered sunlight. Donning his armour Fredrick allowed himself a smile, this armour had protected him through countless battles, and twice as many bad romances.
A conversation drifted through the flimsy wagons walls. "I still can't believe our luck, to think that not only did we escape from those bandits, our horses came back so we could load all of their ill gotten gains alongside our original load in the wagon"
A jovial laugh was heard from the front of the wagon "truly my friend the patron god of merchants smiles upon us"
Another laugh and a third voice replied "say whatever you will my dear friends if I hadn't freed myself of those bindings first and cut you three loose you'd still be back there tussled up like pigs"
A fourth merry voice chimed in "well brother you definitely saved us there but I think we can all agree that if it wasn't for that knight and young man we have stowed away in the back we wouldn't be merrily laughing like this at all"
A chorus of agreement sounded as the other voices all voiced their approval. Slowly getting up Fredrick stretched his tired limbs before poking his head out of the front of the tarpaulin of the wagon. The four merchants merrily sat at the front of the wagon on top of a wooden bench, guiding a young white horse down a small forest path. Coughing to announce his presence the four merchants all turned around in shock. "Aha if it isn't the hero of the hour" the first merchant proclaimed.
"Excellent performance young man, absolutely marvelous" the second merchant added. A flood of compliments came from the four merchants all thanking him for his service.
Cutting over the clamouring merchants Fredrick asked "fellows I appreciate the praise, but I must query what occurred in that clearing? All I remember is a fleeting shadow striking me before I blacked out"
The fourth merchant guffawed loudly and answered "well young knight, after you so gallantly took up arms against those nefarious ruffians things took a turn for the worse in your scuffle. Out of nowhere a cloaked figure burst in and knocked you out of the way as you were about to be run through before wiping the floor with those nasty thieves" agreement sounded from the other merchants before the second merchant continued the tale "after so heroically rescuing us the young fellow just flopped over like a dead fish, my third brother here had thankfully slipped out of his bonds and quickly freed us" the third merchant carried on from this point "a stroke of good fortune befell us and our steed made his way back to our little caravan, we then made haste and loaded all of the loot we could before placing you and our rescuer who appeared to be in a bad way in the back, we then quickly got on our way and have travelled for a whole three days since then. In fact I think we're nearly at Brickendale"
"I thank you good sirs it appears as though you have saved my life" Fredrick humbly gave thanks to the merchants.
"Oh it was nothing really, if you want to thank someone one thank the young man in the back there by changing his dressing" the second merchant responded. With a nod Fredrick returned to the interior of the wagon and once again looked at the young boy in the back. Jet black hair fell down the boys face in thick locks framing a strong jaw and tanned face. The youths body was sleek and powerful, however it looked as if his muscles were still devolving as though the teenager was still but a young child. Fredrick didn't pay such a peculiarity mind for to long though and began to change the teenagers dressing. Removing the bandage that was wrapped around the youths shoulder Fredrick's eyes met a strange sight. The shoulder had obviously been dislocated recently however it appeared as though the injury happened a few months ago, it had already healed up. Looking at the splint on the teenagers arm Fredrick found only some slight bruising as if there had been a serious injury there a while ago. Quickly unwinding the bandage around the boys head Fredrick only found hair matted with blood, no wound. Such a curious phenomena alongside the teens extraordinary fighting ability made the young knight curious about the boys identity.
Bustling noises slowly slipped into the foreground as the wagon made it's way towards Brickendales walls. Fredrick was forced to get out to explain to the wall guard the purpose of their mission showing them a few important documents the guard soon let the wagon inside of the city's gates. Fredrick walked alongside the wagon upon a cobblestone road, inns, homes and taverns made up this part of the city. Everywhere life bustled, a woman carrying groceries home to use for supper, a guard patrolling the streets, a young pup playing with some children, yapping at their heels. Continuing walking along the cobblestone road the wagon ended up outside a little pawn shop. With exclamations the four merchants got down from the wagon "home sweet home" one chimed. Jostling each other to the back of the wagon to unload the merchants opened the tarpaulin to find the youth sitting up, wide awake.
Slowly the boy came round. Strange sounds could be heard from all around. He appeared to be in the back of a moving wagon, lying on sheets atop of many crates. Livestock occasionally lulled around him, and the noise of a town overwhelmed him. Looking around the boy found himself to be topless, his cloak and shirt lay scrunched up beneath his head. Retrieving them the youth pulled his black shirt over his head and clasped the cloak around his shoulders pulling the hood up. The wagon came to a stop. The back of the wagon was opened. Five faces met his eyes, four portly men with flowing beards that concealed half their faces, merry slits for eyes and laugh lines decorated these four men. The other man was taller and more athletic, he wore shining armour that glistened in the suns ray. Dents and scratches in the armour told the boy that this man was no stranger to combat. Cheers of happiness went up as the four portly men moved as one embracing the youth and thanking him profusely. Bewilderment was stark on the boys face, he clearly didn't have a clue about what they were thanking him for. The man in armour showed a bit of reserve "give the poor boy a bit of breathing room" he said smiling at the merchants antics.
Questions filled the youths head and so he gave voice to them "kind sirs I thank you but what happend, why am in the back of your wagon?"
Immediately choruses of "come in" "come rest first, we'll talk later" greeted the boys question. Getting out of the back of the wagon, the boy remembered his injuries. Moving his left arm the boy knew it was nearly all healed and would only need another day before he was completely recovered.
"Kind sirs I inquire of you, did you pick up my sword as well as my sorry self?" The youth needed to know the whereabouts of his sword, it was after all gifted to him by his master.
"Oh that pesky item? Honestly we four brothers nearly all threw our backs out lifting the hefty thing into the back there" with a motion the merchant nearest the wagon opened a long rectangular crate. Obscured by other items all packed around it, there was the youths great sword the red and gold silk handle only just visible. Smiling the youth wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword removing it from the sheath of the crate. With the familiar weight in his hands the youth felt much more relaxed. The boy didn't notice the gawping stares of the merchants who had to strain whilst lifting it with all four of them to get it into the wagon. Hefting his blade onto his shoulder the boy turned around and headed into the pawn shop the merchants were beckoning him into. As the boy turned around the man in armour turned to the other four and exchanged hushed words. The merchants seemed annoyed but they accepted whatever the armoured man was saying
Walking inside of the pawn shop the buy was greeted by shelves upon shelves of assorted goods. The armoured man guided the way round these shelves and into a little back room that only had a square table and four chairs. Obviously a room for buisness. Pulling up a ramshackle chair at the wooden table the armoured man beckoned for the youth to sit. "Are those four others not going to join us?" The youth curiously asked.
Smiling the armoured man replied "no they are but mere merchants, I hear that you saved myself, in answer to your earlier question it appears that you saved me then collapsed because of the severity of your injuries. The kind men out there looked after both myself and you, transporting us to where we currently are, Brickendale. Sorry where are my manners I didn't introduce myself, I am sir Fredrick a knight of the Agrueo kingdom and I wish to know who you are?" The man rested his elbows on the table clasping his hands together in front of his face whilst staring intently at the youth.
The boy saw no reason to hide the truth from this man, however there are some secrets he would keep. "Sir Fredrick I am a descendant of the Dragon Clan, I have come here to undergo the ritual of naming and to find out about the destruction of my clan" the boys answer was blunt and to the point.
Fredrick despite all of his rigorous training let shock slip onto his face at this audacious statement "you have yet to undergo your naming ritual? and your a descendant of the Dragon Clan?! I swear there were no survivors of that incident" Fredrick mused aloud to himself.
The boys head jerked up on hearing this, standing up and slamming his hands on the table "what do you mean by that Fredrick" all honourifics and graces were discarded as the boy glared intensely at the poor knight.
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A cold sweat broke out on Fredrick's forehead as the temperature of the room drooped. There was no mistaking that this boy was formidable "steady on there, I'll tell you everything I know regarding the incident" the killing aura that had been rolling off of the boy dropped in intensity "everyone that's anyone knows that fifty years ago a new Dragon God appeared. No one has claimed that position since Tiorons rule, the new Dragon God took revenge on behalf of Tioron by personally destroying the only clan with any connection to Gale, the Dragon Clan. But how have your parents not told you all of this?" Fredrick explained the situation to the young boy.
The youths emotions were in turmoil right now. To finally have the name of culprit who annihilated his clan was an ecstatic feeling. But for the culprit to be the strongest god there was, the boys hopes fell. To wage war on the Dragon God was to wage war on all of the gods. "My parents? They were killed by this new Dragon God it seems, pray tell me sir Fredrick what about the naming ceremony?"
A frown appeared upon Fredrick's brow at the youths uncouth answer and his question "hmm I still can't believe you are only of ten years of age, however I believe you just missed the mass naming ceremony for commoners by a week" upon seeing the boys face fall Fredrick quickly added "however the nobles hold a separate naming ceremony for their own children today, it's a private affair but I might be able put my family name to some use"
Bowing deeply to Fredrick, all animosity forgotten, the boy responded "sir I would be most obliged if you were to go so far for myself"
"Nonsense it's the least I can do for my saviour, come lets make haste while the day is still young" Fredrick rose from his chair and made for the door. The youth quickly got up and followed suit hefting his great sword onto his shoulder. As they walked out of the shop the merchants flocked them wishing them luck and prosperity on their future travels. Wishing them well and saying farewell they made their way through the city. Briskly walking through the streets of Brickendale the strange pair soon arrived at a great building. Gothic in design the rectangular building had four ornate spires on each corner that reached towards the heavens themselves in the middle of the building a single tower rose upwards, at it's peak a great golden bell could be seen. Sculpted over the arch away of the door was a hand holding coins. "This is the church of Brickendale, as you can see the patron god of this small town is the Merchant God" Fredrick gave some small information about the town. The boy just pulled his hood up and gripped his blade tighter as they entered the church. To think that he was now entering the dominion of the same gods who had just stood and watched as the new Dragon God slaughtered his entire clan. Rage bubbled inside of the boy.
The doors led to a corridor that they followed before they came to another set of oaken double doors, guarded by a friendly looking friar "Sir Fredrick how may I assist you?" The bald friar asked whilst uneasily eyeing up the youth that stood next to Fredrick openly carrying such a giant blade.
"Ah friar Michele how have you been? I've just bought this boy to be named, my cousin sent him over from a small hamlet" Fredrick friendly engaged in conversation with friar Michele.
"Hmm that's fine then, but I must ask that the boy leave such a barbaric weapon outside of the hall" the friar said once again uneasily looking at the youths great sword.
"Preposterous friar, you don't ask me, a trained professional who could pose a threat, to leave my armour and weapons at the door, but you have the audacity to demand that this untrained youth must leave his ornamental weapon at the door" Fredrick chastised the friar who bowed his head in apology before unlocking the great doors.
"The ceremony has already begun so I must ask that you enter quietly" friar Michele said before silently swinging open the great oaken doors.
Stepping inside of the great hall Fredrick and the youth came across a hall packed with colourful people. In front of them were seven chairs lined up in seven rows, facing away from the pair. The first five rows of these chairs were completely filled up with well dressed children all sitting quietly. The youth silently took a seat on the seventh row as the doors swung shut behind him. Around the edges of the hall were adults who looked upon the children with dotting eyes. In front of the rows of chairs was a priest standing in the middle of a formation. The priest wore purple robes, rosary beads were clasped tightly in his pudgy hands. Behind him was an ornate altar and bowl. Sunlight filtered through a majestic window onto this altar and bowl. The formation the priest chanted in was circular with twelve mysterious signs spread equally at separate points all around the circle. The priests arms were spread outwards, his head cast back, eyes closed, a strange language rapidly spewed forth from his mouth. Inhaling a breath the priests head came forwards and he opened his eyes. Stepping out of the formation the priest looked on with eager anticipation as the formation began glowing a myriad of colours.
The area in the circle suddenly went a stark white. The circle appeared to be a hole leading into a white abyss. A head slowly emerged from this abyss floating upwards. Slowly the figures feet came clear of the abyss and everyone got a good look at him. His eyes were pitch black and were set in a dainty face, giving off a chilling aura. Blonde hair fell down his head, cascading to his waist. White robes hid his figure in their shapeless depths. He continued rising so that he hovered five feet off of the ground his white robes hung a foot below him. A deep voice boomed forth. "I am Melodias, one of the namers, representative of the gods themselves" looking around Melodias pointed at a quivering child sitting in the front row "come forth child" stepping up the child came to the edge of the white formation. Outstretching his hand towards the child's head Melodias's deep voice boomed again "name your clan child"
A quivering voice squeaked out "t-t-he Gr-Grace family sir"
Melodias paused for a moment before once again speaking "be known as Garrick Grace, leader of men and bane of evil" with a flourish Melodias produced a thick black book, opening the book up, he entered Garrick's name and title. Two adults broke down into tears and Garrick quickly rushed over to embrace them. Hushed congratulations could be heard from the surrounding parents as they proudly held their son.
This trend continued, Melodias gave each child a name and title before systemically recording it in his book and then the child would run back to their proud parents. Not a single bad name or title was given to any child as the ceremony went on. An hour passed and all but two children remained. One left on the seventh row enveloped in a black cloak and one being named. All of the previous participants stood to the side watching, the doors of the hall had been locked when Melodias had appeared, and would remain locked until he departed. "Be known as Ryreck Feller, the greatest warrior atop a steeds back in this age" Melodias concluded, loud cheers went up from the surrounding crowd as the bewildered Ryreck was hugged by his overwhelmed parents. Such a person would definitely bring much honour to the town of Brickendale, surely this was the greatest title and name today thought the crowd. Melodias recorded Ryreck's name and title while the boy dressed all in black got up, sword slung over his shoulder and headed over to the white formation. Hushed murmurs surrounded the hall as curious parents inquired about the identity of this giant blade wielding youth. All went silent as he arrived before Melodias "name your clan child" Melodias's deep voice questioned the youth.
Taking down his hood the young boy looked up into Melodias black pupils. After a moment of silence the youth answered "the Dragon Clan" a pause as everyone absorbed just what this youth had said. Like one, all the people present gasped. A roar of noise engulfed the hall as every person present immediately started clamouring amongst one another.
A frown appeared on Melodias's brow "silence" this one word entirely froze the nearly hundred people present. A nasty sneer twisted it's way onto Melodias's face "you shall be known as Sergate of the Dragon Clan, the lowest of the low, cursed by even the gods"
Silence ruled over the hall as every person present watched for Sergates reaction. He was motionless apart from his hand that seemed to be touching something in his chest.
Holding his flame pendant the boy mentally called out for his master. "Youngling I've been watching, that's a name not even suitable for beggars, it's a literal translation from the old language of the word scum, don't let them record it" rage fanned into life inside the boy. The gods took everything from him, his family, his home and his future and now this representative has the audacity to call him scum?! Looking up at Melodias's twisted sneer the youths vision went red.
Everyone held their breaths as Melodias went to record Sergates name and title in his book. The sound of quill touching paper was heard before the cloaked Sergate sprung with a enraged roar. Thunder sounded in the hall as Sergate flew towards Melodias his great sword glinting menacingly. Dust flew up into the air as the foundations of the church quaked. A deep voice roared in rage and anguish terrifying the nobles present. They all frantically bolted for the door. Screams sounded as the nobles crushed each other up against the locked barrier. The dust began to settle and what the nobles saw drove them further into a frenzy.
Standing atop the altar was the cloaked youth, black locks fell freely down his face that was twisted with hatred. Lying in the bowl was Melodias's corpse. Blood poured from the decapitated body filling the bowl and staining the once white robes, looking like roses blossoming. The head lay at the base of the altar, a twisted look of agony was Melodias last expression. In one hand the youth held his great sword, crimson droplets were smeared down the edge of the blade. In the other the youth held Melodias's book. Dipping a finger into the bowl of Melodias blood the youth scrawled the words that Fyreon whispered in his ear. With a flick the youth threw the book at the weeping priest. "Give this to the gods" saying so the cloaked youth turned and burst through the window behind him.
Amidst the pandemonium the shrieking nobles were causing the quivering priest looked down at the black book. Scrawled across two pages in Melodias's crimson blood were the words "Vezeyle of the Dragon Clan, Usurper Of Gods And Harbinger Of Storms"