Caeldaria: The Prophecy

"His sword shall bring kings to their knees..."

9th Day of The Morning Star

685th Year of The Age of Chaos

***

It was a cold, snowy night in the Northeastern plains of Caeldaria. The moon shone over the land in all its glory, bathing the landscape in its glow as it stood watch over the night. The Northern Lights danced about, throwing their beautiful, yet eerie, ribbons across the night sky, giving it the appearance of colorful snakes hunting for their prey amongst the stars. The heavens were displayed in all of their glory, making it seem for a moment that all things were right in the world. However in Caeldaria, peace is fleeting, but chaos, everlasting.

"DRAEMYR!" A voice called out into the darkness, filled with anger, and yet filled with sorrow. "DRAEMYR!" The voice cried out in rage yet again. In one of the large, rolling forests of the Northeastern plains the peace of the night was shattered as several silhouettes barreled at a blinding pace, nimbly dodging trees, shrubs, and tree stumps as they appeared to be searching for something. Their faces were fixed with looks of determination, and a hint of bloodlust. Eventually, they broke through the forest into a large valley that separated two massive mountains, a valley known as Winter's Gate. The three figures, now slowed down and in the bright light of the full moon were revealed to be stallions, all of the Earthen Race. For a moment, they were taken aback by the sight of the sky and the beauty of the valley under the Northern Lights, but they quickly came back to their senses as they noticed what they had been chasing was standing not too far away from them.

Under the revealing gaze of the full moon's light, a Unicorn Stallion stood atop a hill, staring down defiantly at the three who were hunting him. His attire was similar to those of the stallions who had apparently been chasing him. This unicorn, however, had markings of blood on him, but due to the absence of any clear wounds, one could conclude that the blood was not his own.

"DRAEMYR!" The stallion leading the group called out one last time to the figure. He snarled and flared his nostrils as he tried to catch his breath. "No more running!" His chest heaved in angry, labored breathing as he stared furiously back at his prey. "Face me like a real Stallion, Draemyr!"

"So...," began the one called Draemyr. "You've decided to follow me this far..." He narrowed his gaze at the stallion in the front of the group. "Your determination is commendable, Traalgaer-"

"Don't you dare!" Traalgaer screamed out once more, "Don't you dare patronize me, you murderous scum!" Traalgaer roared up to the stars in anger as he screamed out, "You're nothing but a damn coward!" He began to pace around in the snow, becoming increasingly infuriated at the Stoicism exhibited by Draemyr towards the group. With every passing moment, his snarling breaths became more rapid as he had to restrain himself more and more to not blindly charge the unicorn atop the hill.

"Those are bold words for a scoundrel such as yourself," responded Draemyr as he spat on the ground towards the three. "And unlike yourselves," he continued with a tone of disgust in his voice, "my code of honor dictates that I cannot follow a murdering tyrant such as Jarl Ragnarr. He was nothing more than a villainous killer who found joy in only massacring innocents. My blade brought justice for his crimes against Caeldaria." Even though he raised the pitch of his voice in anger, his cold, hard gaze gave away nothing but contempt through a gaze of frozen stoicism.

Traalgaer began to ignore what the unicorn was saying, and drew his sword to point with. "Silence!" he said in a commanding voice. "You've committed crimes against Whitevalley Hold! You're wanted for the murder of Jarl Ragnarr and your punishment is death!" Trallgaer had regained his composure and spoke now with an air of authority. An air that Draemyr paid no attention to.

"You seek for my head, yet all you shall find is the edge of my sword." That remark broke Traalgaer's composure once again, and Draemyr allowed a hint of satisfaction to escape from his countenance at the successful provocation. "If you wish to attempt to take my head, you will be returning to Whitevalley without your own." He proceeded to draw his sword and then called out to the group, "I give you this one last opportunity, return to your homes or perish by my blade!"

Traalgaer's immediate response decided the next course of action. With a battlecry, he rushed the hill, startling the other two before they followed suit some distance behind him. His intense rage and intent to kill was characterized in the wild brandishing of his sword. It was now or never. This was his opportunity to at least catch Draemyr off guard and-

"MORGRUD VA'AL!"

"Huh?! Wha-" Traalgaer was not prepared for the force of the blow that sent him reeling backwards. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

***

Draemyr was ready for Traalgaer. That last remark was specifically made to make him charge and it worked like a charm. Traalgaer was too blinded in his fury to see that Draemyr has put himself in a defensive stance and was zeroing in on the opening Traalgaer presented to him.

"MORGRUD VA'AL!" The Ancient Caeldarian spell of power. The spell used magic energy to form an aura around the hooves of the user, causing a concussion blast that is channeled into the target whenever the aura makes contact with it. It was a very powerful spell used by many fighters, but could only be used in short amounts per day, due to the stress it puts on the body.

Even though Draemyr was a Unicorn, he was by far not a "magic user". He focused on combat and was proud of his fighting ability. Sometimes he even forgot he had a horn. In his mind, many times, he considered himself to be of the Earthen Race. It was a conscious choice to not use magic, but he had learned the Morgrud Va'al spell in battle with a warrior from another village, He had spent many nights trying to master the spell and therefore, increased the power and amount of magic ability he was able to channel into it.

When he swung with his punch and made direct contact with the chest of Traalgaer, the Earthen stallion received the full force of the concussive blast, shattering his ribs and sent him tumbling back down the hill.

It was at this point that the other two stallions charged up the hill at him, swords drawn and aimed at Draemyr. Shit, Draemyr thought to himself. I don't know any other spells, and I can't use Morgrud Va'al again this soon after casting it. I'm going to have to fight them with my hooves and sword. In the nick of time, Draemyr was able to sidestep and parry the attack, using the stallions momentum to make him over-commit and send him off the other side of the hill. He then quickly unsheathed his sword to parry the next. This one was much faster and was prepared for a sidestep, so when Draemyr ducked out the way, the sword still made contact with his shoulder making a decent cut into it. In reflex, he turned and blindly drove the sword into the attacker's general direction and felt the resistance of the sword striking a bony area. He turned to see that he had ran the sword through the head of the stallion whose body had gone completely limp now, but he had to quickly pull it out when the first stallion came back charging up the hill. They locked swords for a moment, caught in a battle of sheer strength. They pushed against each other, back-and-forth, swords chirping as they grind against the edges of each other. Draemyr headbutted the stallion to daze him, and then sweep-kicked him off his hooves. Once he was on the ground, Draemyr executed him by plunging the sword through the side of his body.

When the struggle was over, he slowly made his way over to the limp body of Tralgaer in the snow, who was now beginning to wake up. "Count yourself lucky, Traalgaer. When the Whitevalley guards rescue you, tell them if they send more after me, they'll meet an abrupt and painful end to my blade." When Draemyr was about to turn to leave he paused. "Oh, and one last thing..." He bellowed out into the cold night air, "I reject my clan-given name of 'Draemyr' and take the name of Faelrich, The Wandering Soul!"