Part 1.Intro
My name is Azark, and I would be pleased if you'll pay ear to my tale. Not so long ago, in a once peaceful land, four young people took notice to the challenge at hand. The destruction of their land. This divided empire was called Etainormia, Land of the Elements. Here resides islands of witch, obviously, are all governed by a specific elemental force. Enough of the tales of the land, we must get back to our heroes….Azark, Koga, Yukai, and Crest…four fighters of strength, bravery, and a power as old as time its self. Our journey was a very tiresome one…a very dangerous one… but nonetheless, one that would change our look on this deprived world.
I believe…I shall tell you my own tale first…now…where to begin? I suppose…I suppose I will start at the age of 5…heh, so long ago…so young…oh…I apologize…to the tale I shall tell!
Our first story takes place on an island in shape of a crescent moon. Desrolia, the Island of Darkness. This land, filled with shadow, is a relatively large island with many forests; most of witch are filled with leafless trees. The faint scream of a death can be heard nightly. Vampires and Lycanthropes hold their clans here. Although Dragons are sparse, an undead dragon can be found every once in a while roaming the forests. A small portion of this Island is set off with a barrier, this area, if not set off, would surely be a disaster to all mankind, Devlarsa , the most vile place on this world, bloodthirsty Dracopyres and Amazragons reside here. A variation of other nasty beast can be found here. My story will begin here in a small town near the rim of this monster laden land…I shall begin…
Ch: 1-Azark
Azark Van'Hoven was an ambitious boy, even at five he was always watching the knights of the castle over the hill train. He, A fatherless child, could never be enrolled in such a academy. None the less, Azark would always ask his busy mother. He would say things such as," Mom! If I can't fight…how will I protect you when the baddies kill all the k-k-nites in the castle?" and always swing around sticks and throw stones. Unbeknownst to little Azark though, his mother was planning on sending him to such a palace if she were aware his so said "baddies" were to show up in their village.
The town was filled with peaceful farmers, bakers, and the always bustling smithing family. Any time Azark would run into the town square, the sounds of bells and hammers ringing in his ears, the smell of ever baking breads and lush meats clouded his smell. The boy could always be found in the dark forest surrounding his self sustaining town. Running and training to be the savior knight of his dreams. The Van'Hoven name was much esteemed at one point in the little town. Long ago, before even the castle was built for knights, the legendary Azarain'th Van'Hoven, of the Dark Glyph they called him. Little Azark, filled with tales of his ancestors had always dreamed of mastering the sacred" Glyph" of his family's name.
A few years passed, Azark was eight now. His eyes were now turning from brown into a deep red, a trait of the Van'Hovan line. His mother saw him less and less, for he now, more than ever, he wished to fight. The boy was becoming strong in his own right, mentally and physically. When with his friends, Azark would always come home with a lovely smirk of victory on his face. His mother would ask what he had been doing while hanging pelts to sell at the market. His answer would often be along the lines of," I was in a big battle with Shadow, the great neck romancer, and defeated his horde of deadies!" or," I was battling a pack of hungry dragons and saved the village!" Regardless of his tales, he was always the winner, or soon after had a comeback.
Azark had begun developing an even greater cry for knighthood. The boy had also been developing good character, always doing the right thing. Time would pass until the boy was 10. Azark's hair was now long and black, he wore a grey garb of oversized cloth, and his eyes were both a bright red. These eyes of his, perfectly reflecting light and always gleaming with a spark of happiness were a sign of a great strength. Always had his mother thought, watching him grow, that one day, long into the future, Azark would be a powerful fighter, a legend of his time and many more to come. Soon, the both of their dreams were to be realized…
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