Silverblade:
Chapter I- Memory
Rhys pounded down the wharf, his breath misted slightly in the cool autumn air. He fought the urge to glance back, knowing deep inside that the Shadow was hunting him. Just so had they played this scene out a thousand thousand times. They would continue to fight as Fate's Wheel spun them out into life again and again.
A faint whistling reached Rhys' ears and he rolled forward, the blade ripped over his head, formed completely of darkness. It slammed into the stone walls of a nearby warehouse, striking sparks that started a quickly spreading fire. Flames lit the surface of the ocean lighting the wharf like the sun at high noon. Rhys didn't even pause to glance at the fire, before he was up and running once more.
He turned onto one of docks dodging between crates of half unloaded cargo. Ahead he saw the circle of light, it swirled like a rainbow of jewel like colors. A blue brighter then the summer sky, purple gold like the most glorious sunrise, and a red that flames could only envy.
Stifling his shout of relief, Rhys left his hiding place and ran foward. He was just a few feet from the gate when his foot landed in a pool of darkness, and sunk. Eyes widening Rhys looked up and saw the gate vanish as a man cloaked in darkness rose up from the dock, the Shadow. Snarling Rhys drew his katana, it glowed with a light of its own soft and warm. Vaguely Rhys noticed the darkness flinch back from the blade.
The Shadow laughed darkly, "Do you truly think that sword will harm me now Bright One?"
"It worked before didn't it?" Rhys retorted, sunk in the darkness to his waist now.
Shaking his head the Shadow pointed at Rhys. "The game is over and you have lost. So I mark you, as is my right."
Rhys hissed and turned his wrist over. A black rune had burned itself on the inside of his wrist, a jagged black line slashing through a perfect circle.
Glaring at the shadow, defiance sparked in Rhys' eyes. "I may have lost this round but this war far from over. Deftly Rhys flipped the dagger and stabbed at his own throat, distantly he heard the Shadow shout in fury, robbed once again of the prize he had so long sought. Then the peace of death once again closed gently over Rhys.
***
Hundreds of years passed before the Shadow heard the words he had waited for, across centuries, and several worlds. "We have found him." That one phrase flung his memory back in time.
Smiling darkly the Shadow turned to his soldier. She had waist length red hair, and the black eyes of a shade. "So it begins again, where is he?"
"He is in the realm of Tehra, as you said he is brave and cunning, a clever lad, well liked by his peers, if a bit of a lone wolf."
The Shadow waved that aside. "Of course he is. I know him better then he knows himself. What is his name now?"
"He was named Kal, he is seventeen now. "The woman asked eagerly.
He turned to the table and picked up a knife, it was made of black steel a blood red jewel was embedded in the hilt. "No. He does not yet know who he is. I would know if he had remembered. Just watch him for now. If it starts then take him."
She bowed hands on her knees. "Of course Dark Lord. I would gladly clip his wings for you." The woman turned to the portal applying the glamour so that she looked like a teenage girl.
"One more thing." The Shadow stopped her before she could pass through the portal. "Does he still bear my mark?"
"He does."
