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Clash of the Swords: The Power of Darkness and Light.

Chapter 3

By: Faraz "f_4ever" Hussain

NOTE: All characters in this story are fictional and have nothing to do with anything/anyone in reality.  This is my first actual optional piece of writing…. Please do not copy it and say that it's your work.  This story may not be published on any site other than Elfwood, Forever’s Realm and affiliates of Forever’s Realm.  The ideas for this chapter might seem a little offensive to many. I originally didn’t plan to have the principal reveal Winterblaze's powers, but I was running out of time, so I decided to put it in. You may also notice a non spell word that is not explained in the story (Keysheyer), it is a mild oath. Send comments to f4ever@foreversrealm.cjb.net (flames will be ignored).  To read chapter notes, check out  http://f-r.cjb.net  Last of all, enjoy.  

The flames lapped at the young man’s feet.  The boy was tied to a rough, gray, wooden pole by metallic restraints.  His light-brown hair was streaked with sweat and clung loosely to the bottom of his neck.  His eyes were dark-brown and his tear streak face was almost non-descript.  He let out a howl of agony and pleaded for help, for some end to this torture, but it only encouraged the weak, blue flame to flare into a hot white blaze.  As the boy let out a weak sob, his body shifted, the image of the boy blurred momentarily and was replaced with the image of Winterblaze.

Winterblaze awoke with a start and let out a gasp of surprise as a hand covering his mouth blocked out the cry that threatened to escape from his lips.

“Come on little boy,” the leering voice of the brown haired boy from Winterblaze’s dream taunted.  “We only have a candle mark to get you in and out of the storage house.

Winterblaze rose up, out of his cot as the boy’s hand released him.  He looked around and noticed his three roommates sleeping in similar cots.  He quietly whispered, “What am I supposed to get this time, Tyran?” the last word was said as if it were poison, escaping from Winterblaze’s tongue.

Apparently, Tyran didn’t care about Winterblaze’s tone, as long as he did his job. “The same as usual,” the brown haired boy replied indifferently.  “Just get us some food that we can eat…. and maybe a few credit chips.”

Credit chips were a form of currency here at the school of Dargon .  Necessities were free, but even the smallest luxury, such as a candle, a bracelet, or even extra food required credits.  Teachers gave credit chips to the student that did the best in each assignment.

Tyran opened the door and walked out of Winterblaze’s room, into the dark hallway of the dormitory.  The walls of the stone hallway were covered with translucent tapestries of the mages who ran the school.  Although the hallway was dark enough so that a person couldn’t see their own hand if they held it up to their face, the eyes of the tapestries still seemed to pierce into Winterblaze’s skin.  The only source of light came from the full moon that shone through the two main doors that marked the entrance to the dormitories.

The doors were locked both physically and magically on both sides to prevent people from getting into or out of the building; but Tyran and his friends, Lincker and Hanmit, figured out a way to get past both locks by cutting out the glass and sealing it in place with magic after they came back.

“So are we ready?!?” the voice of Lincker floated in the air impatiently.  “We only have a few seconds after I cut the glass before the alarm goes off.”

“And we don’t want to get caught like we did last time,” Hanmit said in a worried tone.

“Relax,” Tyran scoffed as he punched Winterblaze in the stomach, sending the boy sprawling.  “If it wasn’t for Winterblaze’s fear of being caught last time, we would have been out in no time!” He paused as if remembering something then walked over to Winterblaze and picked him up; one hand on the kid’s neck, making him choke.  “We’ve gotten over that haven’t we?” Tyran asked and after Winterblaze’s chocked reply, he dropped Winterblaze on the floor.

“If we plan on doing this tonight, we better get going,” Lincker’s voice called out.

“Fine, we’re ready.” Tyran replied as he waked towards the glass doors.

A halo of light surrounded the door and a low grinding sound emitted from the doors.  A few moments later, the glass from the doors slowly lowered themselves onto the floor.

As the four apprentice mages walked through the hole that used to contain the glass, lightning flashed in the air, helping the moon illuminate the school grounds.  For the first time since Winterblaze got to the school, which was a week ago, Winterblaze got a clear look at the two brothers, Lincker and Hanmit. 

It was hard to believe that the two were twins; they were exact opposites in all things, except their thin eyes.  Lincker was tall and wiry, with long, black hair and pale skin; Hanmit was short and stocky with a dark tan.  Lincker specialized in the darker magic of destruction and wore dark robed clothes; Hanmit wore shades of pale and white and studied the lighted magic of healing.  The only thing in common, their eyes, were a deep gray and seemed to scorn everything. 

When Winterblaze arrived at the premises a week ago, his worst fears had been confirmed.  The teachers were terribly brutal and kept a tight leash on the younger students, but took almost no action against the older sixth year students of the academy.  The day he arrived, Tyran started to pick on him.

The older student started with Winterblaze’s food.  Everyday for the past week, Tyran would take the food given to Winterblaze and would drop it onto the floor and stomp all over it.  When Winterblaze complained to the teacher distributing the food, the teacher grabbed a staff and sent him flying, saying that it was his fault and that he should take care of it himself.

It wasn’t long after their first meeting that the twins started to harass Winterblaze as well.  During the time given to the students for homework, the two would often ‘misplace’ Winterblaze’s books and would occasionally go so far as gagging Winterblaze and tying him to a tree branch.

It wasn’t until Winterblaze’s third day at Dargon that he actually made his first and only friend.  By this time, Winterblaze had already gained tremendous control over his supreme innate mage born abilities, which was a major accomplishment in on itself, for his control had been greater than most fourth year students were expected to know during the last week of the school year.

The incident that had caused Winterblaze to gain a friend in this god-forsaken place had taken place during the candle mark recess that the students were given.  The students were left outside for an hour, supervised by two teachers that did nothing other than prevent children from escaping.

A third year student had decided that he would try to escape from the heavily fortified school grounds.  Even though he knew about the undead creatures that patrolled the fencing surrounding the school grounds would try and eat all living creatures that they could get their hands on, he still tried to escape.

The kid had melted a large hole in the fencing by throwing a fireball at it and had just made it to the other side of the fence when the undead grabbed him.  Winterblaze had cried out in horror and had created a miniature shielding force field around the kid to prevent the undead from hurting him.  One of the teachers had gotten angry by this and had knocked Winterblaze onto the floor with the butt of his staff.  The teacher started to kick Winterblaze as Winterblaze’s concentration on the shield broke.  As the undead grabbed the boy, Winterblaze howled in both pain and fury for neither teacher had helped the kid from getting torn apart alive.

As the teachers continued to beat upon Winterblaze’s body, another student had started to cast a spell of healing upon Winterblaze; both were thrown in the cellar, to live without food or water for two days.  During the two days of confinement, Winterblaze had gotten to know his friend, Snowkire.

Snowkire was a boastful and power-hungry red haired boy.  The reddish tint to Snowkire’s skin frightened Winterblaze, and very few things frightened the boy after being alone in the woods for a week.  Snowkire’s green eyes never stopped moving, no matter what he was looking at, his eyes would constantly move to the right and left, sucking up the details at an alarming rate.  This probably explained why Snowkire had so many spells memorized in the back of his mind.

The rest of Winterblaze’s week had passed by quickly.  The teachers often made examples of the students who didn’t know the answers to the questions that they asked by striking the student’s back with a steel covered staff.  Since Winterblaze had advanced much quicker than the teachers expected, they always asked him the most difficult of questions, many of which he didn’t know the answer to.  Both the teachers and the students enjoyed picking on Winterblaze, causing him quite a bit of physical and emotional trauma.

The four students reached the back of the stone storehouse just as the clouds covered up the moon, making it difficult for them to see anything at all.  Tyran created a small ball of magical light that illuminated the area around them, not listening to Winterblaze’s protest that everyone could see the light from the teachers’ building.  They crept around to the side, where a small, open window, barely out of the reach of a tall sixth year mage.  The window was extremely small and since Winterblaze was the smallest of the four, Tyran and Lincker hoisted him up.

Winterblaze crawled through the small window and fell onto the cold floor of the storehouse.  HE mumbled under his breath and a small, weak light appeared within a small orb that hung on his belt.  He looked around the room and let out a gasp of awe as his eyes drifted over to a large pile of yellow credit chips that were on top of a small, gray table.  It wasn’t the chips that caught his eyes; a small, rusty-brown, metallic wristband lay half embedded in the pile of wooden disks. 

The wristband shed its own soft light over itself; Winterblaze could see every miniature detail I n the small piece of metal.  A dragon with its wings outstretched lay etched over half of the wristband.  Winterblaze walked over to the wristband and pulled it out of the pile of wood and looked at the other half. A small, sky blue gem lay in the middle of the underside and was surrounded by an engraving of a hawk beautifully carved in intricate geometric patterns. 

Winterblaze was about to slide the wristband onto his right hand when he stopped.  It must be worth a lot, he thought to himself as he placed it in his left boot.  I don’t think Tyran would let me keep it if he saw it.  He realized that he was wasting valuable time and proceeded to put as much food and credit chips that he could into small bags.

Just then, he heard the sound of footsteps and voices approaching the storehouse.  He quietly glided over to a small weapons rack and flattened himself against the side that was hidden from the main door.  He quickly doused the light and waited quietly.

“You say you saw him enter the storehouse through the window?”  Winterblaze heard a teacher ask as footsteps approached the door.  Were there others able to get away in time?  Winterblaze thought to himself and stifled a gasp of dismay as he heard the reply to the teacher’s inquiry.

“Yes, sir!” the voice of Tyran replied as a key jiggled in the lock of the main door.  “We saw that Winterblaze snuck in, wanting credit chips, no doubt.”

How could they do this to e?  Winterblaze thought to himself as the door’s lock clicked.  I’ve done everything they asked for since I got here.  Now Winterblaze was angry.  I’ve even put up with their senseless beatings and degradations, he thought to himself as he felt rage build up within him.

It was almost like fire, the tingling feeling and heat that the rage left within him made him feel as if he could take on the world.  The fire coursed through his veins, giving his body an extra surge of life, power, and adrenaline.

I’ll show them, Winterblaze thought to himself as he cupped his hands together and let energy gather between them.

As the door opened, everything seemed to go in slow motion for Winterblaze.  He leapt out from behind the cabinet just as the teacher’s mage light lit the entire room.  To Winterblaze the teacher seemed like a non descript person wearing a green shirt and dark-brown breeches.  Winterblaze’s true focus was the figure standing behind and slightly to the left of the teacher, Tyran’s grinning face.

Winterblaze let out a screech of fury as the energy gathered inside of him.  A sudden wind picked up around Winterblaze, knocking over the nearby table with the credit chips the teacher started to mumble.

Winterblaze’s eyes burned with fury as Winterblaze launched a fireball at Tyran.  The teacher motioned with one hand as the fireball came near him.  The fireball died out as the teacher shouted.  “You think you can beat a teacher at this school?” he demanded as he motioned again with his hands.  A light mist settled around Winterblaze’s body paralyzing him.

Winterblaze’s body tensed as he tried to break free of the spell, but his efforts were useless.

The teacher walked over to Winterblaze and took the small bag that hung on the kid’s belt.  He flipped it upside down and let the contents drop onto the floor.  He mumbled a spell, and the room tidied itself up.

He then moved his face next to Winterblaze’s and grinned, his breath smelling strongly of meat.  “You will never be able to beat any of the teachers with your week power,” he said, and then added, “so don’t even try.”

“Tyran thank you for notifying me,” the teacher said, still facing Winterblaze.  “Each of you, take two credit chips as a sign of my appreciation.”

Tyran took four as the others took two then left.

“Normally the punishment for breaking into the storehouse would be two days win the cellar,” the teacher leered.  “But since you broke curfew and attacked a teacher, the punishment-“

“But sir, I didn’t try to attack you,” Winterblaze pleaded.

“Silence!” the teacher all but roared.  “You’ve done nothing but cause trouble ever since you got here.  You will spend three days in the cellar, without food or water, and then you will report to the cook after class for a week for whatever menial duty that he assigns you.”

The teacher grabbed Winterblaze by the collar and dragged him over to a small grate placed on the side of the steps that led to the student’s quarters.  He cast a spell and the grate opened.  Then the teacher proceeded to toss Winterblaze into the small chamber underneath the steps.  Only after the grate had been sealed by a spell that only the teachers could control, did the teacher release the spell of paralysis upon Winterblaze’s body.

As the teacher walked away, Winterblaze launched himself at the grate and tried to pry it open.  After realizing that his attempts were useless, he started to scream hoping that somebody would save him, but the grate magically prevent sound from escaping the chamber.

Winterblaze cried through the night and fell into an uncomfortable sleep just as the sun began to rise.  His dreams were full or rays of destruction.  The dreams portrayed various ways of killing Tyran and the teachers, all with a red-hot flame surrounding them.

Winterblaze awoke to the sound of Tyran’s voice sometime around noon .  Tyran and his friends were peering through the grate as if Winterblaze were a caged animal waiting to be release; and in essence he was.  After realizing that Winterblaze was awake, the sixth year students threw rotting vegetable from the pit of garbage that lay in the cook’s kitchen at Winterblaze.

Winterblaze cringed as a turnip hit his face then tried to roll away from the other rotting vegetables, but since the room was extremely small, he could only escape from the worst of the pelting.

After Tyran had left with his friends, he heard a soft voice call out his name from the other side of the grate.  He turned towards the voice and saw Snowkire’s face peering anxiously at him.

“Are you okay?” Snowkire asked hesitantly as he pushed a small tray of food through the grate.  After Winterblaze’s reluctant nod, Snowkire continued.  “I spent the last of my credit chips getting the food for you, I hope you like it.”

Winterblaze mouthed a “Thank you” and set upon the food ravenously.  He was a young teenager and like most ¾ humans his age, his body consumed food at a rapid pace.

Snowkire continued to talk about what was happened him school for a few moments, then quickly told Winterblaze that he’d be back with flinched food after dinner just as the teacher on duty was about to turn his eyes towards them.

Winterblaze smiled a little and waved as Snowkire turned around and left.  He hen fell into a haunting sleep.

This time, Winterblaze’s dreams didn’t have visions, but consisted of an eerie voice that sounded very familiar, yet Winterblaze couldn’t quite place it. 

“I can annihilate them all for you if you like,” the voice said tauntingly.  “I can give you all the power that you ever wanted, more even.  Yu could finally teach them not to mess with you, you could rule the world,” it said convincingly.  “All you have to do is release me from my prison inside of you.  All you have to do is think of me being free from a cage, ad you’ll have everything you ever wanted.

“No,” Winterblaze heard his voice say.  “I don’t want my friends to get hurt.”

“Foolish mortal,” the voce replied in rage.  “I could give you what other men could only dream of, yet you reject this great power.  And for what?  One little friend!”

“The answer is no,” Winterblaze replied firmly.

The rest of Winterblaze’s sleep was peaceful.

Winterblaze awoke to the sound of Snowkire’s voice.  Snowkire told him how Tyran got beaten earlier this morning fro trying to steal a spell book from the teacher’s meeting room.  Winterblaze gratefully accepted the small loaf of bread that Snowkire handed to him.  Snowkire apologized for getting so little food but Winterblaze waved it off.  Snowkire left a few moments later.

The teachers who put Winterblaze in the cellar came by the next morning and released Winterblaze from his imprisonment.  The teacher spat on the ground near Winterblaze and left. 

Winterblaze tried to walk, but his legs protested and he fell to the floor.  When he looked up again, he saw Tyran, Linker, and Hanmit.  Tyran laughed and kicked Winterblaze in the stomach.

“Never try anything like that again,” Tyran said scornfully.  “Your actions warrant for twenty lashes, but I’ve decided to go easy on you.”  Tyran smiled gleefully before continuing, “You’ve got until tomorrow to get me an enchanted staff.”

With that, Tyran kicked Winterblaze again and left, his cronies leaving after landing a kick on Winterblaze.

“Wait,” Winterblaze wheezed.  They turned around annoyed.  “How am I supposed to get a staff?”

“That’s up to you,” Tyran leered as he went into the dormitory, followed by Hanmit and Lincker.

Winterblaze groaned as he rose to his feet, steadying himself by leaning against a wall.  His vision blurred and he saw two schools for a moment, one in flames; the other, lifeless.  He shook his head to clear his thoughts as he took a step towards the dormitory.  His eyes saw red as a lancing pain went through his left leg. 

Winterblaze gasped in pain as the bell above the dormitory tolled, announcing the end of breakfast.  He waited for the pain to clear and placed most of his weight on his right leg.  Then he walked up to the double doors that led to the classrooms, wincing in pain as he did so.  He entered the hallway and looked up at the signs hanging from the ceiling, searching for the infirmary. 

Winterblaze reached the small door that led to the infirmary just as the first students started to enter the building, heading for various classes.  He knocked on the hard wood door as his vision blurred once again.

Winterblaze heard the voice again as he leaned against the closed door. “I can get rid of them Winterblaze, I can make them feel your pain, make them feel even more pain!” the voice said seductively.

“Shut up,” Winterblaze whispered, but the voice continued. “Go away,” Winterblaze said, his voice cracking as the voice in his head continued its talk of power.  “SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!”  the boy screamed at the top of his lungs.

The voice receded as Winterblaze’s vision cleared up, but his problems were far from being solved, for in front of him were Tyran and his cronies.

“What did you say?!?”  Tyran sneered and punched Winterblaze in the stomach, making the boy double over in pain.  “I was being lenient with you, only asking for a staff in return for all my troubles, but it looks like you need to be taught a lesson.  Maybe four dozen lashes will do.”

Winterblaze’s face paled at the thought as he tried to turn and walk away, but Lincker and Hanmit grabbed his arms. 

“Take him to the ‘Chamber’” Tyran snickered as his cronies started to drag him away.

“Desu Freeze!” A feminine voice said sternly as the bullies froze, their bodies paralyzed by magic.

Winterblaze slowly turned around, afraid of an even bigger bully, but only saw the kind face of the nurse.

The ‘nurse’ wore a white gown of some sort, the material covered her from shoulder to toe, yet the clothing appeared to be much more formal than a nightgown.  The nurse herself was plain, her hair was a light brown in color, and the rest of her face, eyes and body, were all so plain, that it would be almost impossible for one to remember her face.

“Detention!” the nurse said calmly, her words tingling with magic.

The bullies disappeared, teleported to what Winterblaze presumed to be the detention center.

The nurse sighed and slowly slouched over, her body spent from spell casting.  Then she looked at Winterblaze, her gaze looking at the fear in his eyes.  She gently walked over to him and guided him towards her office.

The energy seemed to flow out of Winterblaze and the last thing he remembered seeing before he blacked out was the plain, whitewashed walls of the infirmary.

Winterblaze slowly came to later that day; the walls of the room slowly blurred into focus as he let out a low grown.  The nurse, hearing that he was awake, rose up from a small chair next to a desk in the far corner of the room.  She walked over to the small, yet surprisingly comfortable, white cot that Winterblaze lay on.  She placed her slender right hand near Winterblaze’s forehead, carefully brushing away his soft, silky blue hair before placing her palm on his forehead.

“It seems that you have a high fever,” she said as she snatched her hand away, wondering how a child with such a hot forehead was still alive, let alone conscious.

Winterblaze could only reply with a slight nod, his mouth was burning, almost as if he had vomited.  Suddenly, his body started to spasm, his body quickly curling up to prevent as much damage as possible.  As the nurse looked on in fear and a little wonder, Winterblaze’ hair changed to a deep brown in color.

“What happened?” the nurse managed after the spasm ended.

“I-” Winterblaze replied as he started to cough, his hands instinctively covering his mouth as he did so.   When he drew it away, his hand was freckled with blood.

“Never mind that,” the nurse said after a few minutes, her voice betraying her fear.  “As a nurse, it is my duty to care for you!”

The nurse set about, opening up a large cabinet that had been built into the southern wall, revealing jars of medicines among many other odds and ends in bottles. As she searched for a specific bottle, scanning the labels of jars, Winterblaze slowly sat up, his legs dangling off the cot.

The nurse turned after a few moments, smiled at Winterblaze weakly, and then went back to her jars.  Winterblaze sat quietly, twiddling his thumbs in boredom.

A sudden knock on the door broke the silence and the nurse went to answer it.  As she opened the oak-wood door, Winterblaze froze, his mind registering fear.  He struggled to speak, but could only let out a high-pitched squeak as his throat closed up.  His hands gripped the edge of the cot and his body tensed, instinctively getting ready to bolt.

Standing in the doorway was perhaps the most ruthless of all the occupants in the school of Dargon , the principal.  The Principal stood at nearly one and a half times the size of the boy, his shoulder length brown hair ending in a scraggly knot just beyond the nape of his neck.  His shoulders were large and square, his arms bulging with raw mage energy.  His eyes were a deep brown that seemed to bore into the souls of his subject.  His rough and pocked face was a light tan in color and sported a small scar above his left eye. His goatee was blond in color and was much in need of a trimming.  The principal’s clothes consisted of a hooded violet robe with gold thread stitching.  Many circles and other shapes were etched in white thread lay scattered upon the robe, giving the wearer tremendous power as well as good luck and immunity to disease.  The principal wore soft doeskin boots that disappeared under the folds of his robes.  He wore a thin sash of golden rope above his waist.  Hanging from this sash were numerous spell-casting materials.

“I’m here for the boy,” the large man thundered in a voice thick with mucus.  He walked into the small room, taking up much of its free space.

“I’m sorry, but it is my duty-“the nurse replied hesitantly, her voice cracking with uncertainty.

“I don’t care!” the principal boomed, his voice making Winterblaze cringe in terror.  “I’m here for the boy; I’m in charge of the school.”

“You can’t have him,” the nurse replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her defenses weakened.

“Do you dare defy me, woman?!?” the principal shouted, clearly enraged.  “This is my school and you will hand over the boy.”

“No… sir; the head book written by Dargon himself states that in any situation involving an injured student, the nurse has the most authority.  Only the combined council of the school can override that!” the nurse said, her voice returning speedily.

The principal bit back a reply and turned around, heading towards the door, his body quaking with anger.  “Fine,” he spat; even though he was the principal of the school, apparently he wasn’t foolish enough to defy the rulebook.  “If you want to dance, let’s dance.  But I warn you, I can be a formidable foe.”  He turned back around and gazed into the nurse’s eyes, and then his eyes shifted to Winterblaze’s.  His lip curled slightly as he turned back around.  “I want the child as soon as he is able to leave.  And watch your tongue woman. You may end up without one!” he stated, and then left, slamming the door behind him.

“Thanks,” Winterblaze let out as he stopped shivering with fear.

“To tell you the truth,” the nurse chortled softly.  “I was scared to the point of wetting myself.”

A slight smile broke Winterblaze’s face, his first smile in years.  He looked into the eyes of the nurse, afraid that she was still fearful of him.  Seeing nothing but care, he broke down and started to cry. Soft, salty tears of sorrow trickled down his face as his body shook.  The nurse walked over to him and sat down, putting her arm around the boy.

Winterblaze laid his head upon her shoulder and started babbling.  “I- I don’t know what I did,” he cried softy, his voice shaking.  “On the night of my acceptance, the raiders attacked, killing the shaman of the village as well as a kind mage from the school.  I ran, searching for some salvation.  I should have perished with them, but it seems something up above decided that I needed more pain.  When I got here, it only seemed to get worse.”  Winterblaze paused at this point as he looked up into the nurse’s eyes. Her eyes were glistening as tears threatened to break on her face. She looked at him, brushed her tears away and softly told him to continue.

“When I got here, Tyran and his friends treated me harshly and made me do their dirty work.  I complained to the teachers, but they told me to bear with it.”  Winterblaze shuddered, not wishing to continue.

The nurse quietly held him, and then gently kissed the top of his head, whispering to him soothingly.

“Then, there… the ‘zombies’ ate one of my classmates alive.  I tried to help him, but the teachers hurt me for it.”  Winterblaze continued softly.  He lifted his head fro her shoulders and his body straightened.  “I’ll make them pay for this, I’ll make them all pay!” he said in a strong voice.

The nurse yelped at the sudden heat emitting from the boy’s body and jumped back, fear playing across her eyes.  Then as suddenly as it came, it was gone and the boy slumped back down, his small frame shaking softly with rage.

“I-I’ve got to go,” Winterblaze said as he stood up and headed towards the door.

“Wait,” the nurse called out.  She walked over to him and placed her arm in his way.  “I’ve got to check and make sure that you’re okay.”

“I’ll b fine,” Winterblaze whispered softly, the fire returning to his eyes.  “You should worry about the others.”  Then the fire was gone and Winterblaze timidly walked past her arm and towards the door.  He paused briefly as he opened the door, his hand gently resting on the brass handle of the wooden object.  “You know, you’re the second person that’s ever cared for me.”

“Who was the first?” the nurse asked gently, unsure of whether or not to try and stop him.

The fire returned to his eyes briefly as he evaded the question.  “It’s a shame that you’ll all burn, but I’ll make sure you die quickly.”  The fire left his eyes once again as Winterblaze stepped out into the dark hallway; he left the door open and started walking down the winding corridor.

Winterblaze had just gone around the bend when he met up with Tyran and his cronies. 

“Well, well, well; look who it is.”  Tyran said grinning, his friends laughed at his remark.

“Just leave me alone,” Winterblaze said, trying outwardly to act calm while shaking in fear on the inside.

“’Leave me alone,’ he says” Tyran taunted as Winterblaze lowered his gaze and turned away.

Winterblaze shuffled away from the sixth-year students, mumbling unintelligibly under his breath.

“What did you say?” Lincker asked as the bullies caught up to Winterblaze.  Lincker roughly shoved Winterblaze, causing the boy to fall down and cry out in pain.

The fire returned to Winterblaze’s eyes as he struggled to stand up, his leg sending jolts of pain through his frail body.  Ignoring the flashes of red, Winterblaze stood up and stared defiantly into Tyran’s eyes.

“I said Kesheyer you fool,” Winterblaze said, his voice rose slightly above normal.

“That’s it!  I’ve had it with your remarks,” Tyran shouted in Winterblaze’s face, smothering him with spit. “The ‘Chamber’ it is!”

Lincker and Hanmit grabbed Winterblaze’s arms once again and dragged him struggling towards a nearby stairwell.  They slammed him against the railing, toppling him over it.  Winterblaze screamed as he fell down the flights of stairs; surprisingly, he landed on his feet.  His leg buckled as a searing pain coursed through his leg.  He fell to the floor and spasmed once again.

The voice returned to his head once again, promising him unlimited power to do with what he pleased, but Winterblaze still refused, afraid of the consequences.

The bullies took their time coming down the stairs, very well knowing that their prey couldn’t escape from them.  They were the vampirical hunters of the night and he was the chosen sacrifice.

As the trio reached the bottom stair, they stared, surprised that Winterblaze hand managed to stand.

“It’s kind of funny that you’ll bring your own demise” Winterblaze sneered, then laughed hysterically, his hair the color of an orange flame

“Tyran, look, his hair.” Lincker voiced in awe and a little fear.

Tyran shoved Lincker aside, picker Winterblaze up by the color, and rammed him against the wall, causing Winterblaze’s hair to return to its natural sky blue.  “Heh, see Lincker, it’s just another one of this kid’s tricks,” Tyran said grinning foolishly, his eyes betraying that he had really been afraid as well.

Winterblaze’s eyes dashed frantically from side to side, searching for something to help him escape from his current situation. His wants were answered in a twisted sort of way.

“That’s enough boys,” The principal said as his body materialized out of thin air. 

Tyran dropped Winterblaze to the floor and stepped back, behind Hanmit and Lincker.  Winterblaze slowly stood up, pain coursing through his leg, and lowered his head, keeping his eyes away from the principal.

“You can have him in a little while,” the principal continued, his calm and seemingly careless voice making Winterblaze shiver.

Tyran and his cronies threw a venomous glance at Winterblaze, their evening fun obviously ruined.  Then they turned and proceeded to walk up the stairs before the principal continued. 

“Follow me,” he said, his voice filled with disgust.

Winterblaze meekly followed the principal down the hallway and into his office.  The principal closed the door behind Winterblaze and told him to take a seat in a small, blue-cushioned chair.  The large man walked around his desk making sure that the bulky oak was in between him and the child before opening a small drawer in the desk and pulling out a lead box.

Winterblaze looked around him, absorbing in as much information as possible.  The room looked ancient.  Dust covered an old bookcase along one wall; along another were a group of animal heads and a small chest of pale ivory.  The wall with the door had many small bookcases containing vials of foreign liquids and small insects as well as many other miniature specimens.  The wall behind the principal was covered with a large tapestry, depicting a battle between two humanoid creatures with wings; one with blue hair and the other a brunette.

The tapestry is probably telling about the battle between Starblaze and Novar, Winterblaze thought to himself.  As if spurred on by the image of Starblaze, Winterblaze felt anger surge through him, building higher than it had before.

“I’m sorry that I have to do this,” the principal said almost sadly oblivious of the child’s anger.  “Your power would have mad our school proud.”

With that, the principal opened the lead box and pulled out a bent knife that imitated the movement of a snake.  The knife was black in color from hilt to tip; its body marred with small fingerprints.

The principal clutched the knife by its hilt and walked over to Winterblaze who sat in the chair motionless; the child’s eyes staring into space. The child shook his head and started to get up, but the principal whispered a single word, sending Winterblaze back to the chair, his body immobile.

Winterblaze struggled to get free, but his efforts were wasted, for he couldn’t even move a finger, let alone his entire body.

The principal stood behind Winterblaze, his body shaking slightly, for cold-blooded murder was low, even for the large man.

The principal rose his hands, both clutched the knife tightly, the pale white of his hands contrasting against the black night of the blade.  He quickly brought the blade down, hoping to give Winterblaze a quick death, if there ever was such a thing.

A sudden knock on the door startled the principal, causing him to drop the knife that had been mere inches away from Winterblaze’s head.  At that same instant, while the principal’s concentration was diverted, Winterblaze broke free of the spell and rushed to the door.  He opened it and whispered a quick ‘thank you’ to the boy, Snowkire, his only friend, before continuing to race across the hall.

It was then that Winterblaze realized that he had to get away from the school.  That meant that he had to wade through the sea of zombies, but if he stayed, the principal would get him.  With that in mind, he ran up the two flights of stairs, his leg pain gone.  He raced across the dormitory; stopping at his room to pickup his meager belongings and to catch his breath, before proceeding towards the front door.

As he placed his hand on the handle of the front door, he felt a rough tapping on his shoulder.  He spun around; his face creased with worry and stared into the grinning faces of Tyran and Lincker. 

“Well……Well……Well….. If it isn’t our best friend, the troublemaker,” Tyran snickered.  “We were just thinking about you.”

“I don’t have time for your antics, Tyran,” Winterblaze said, his eyes darting back and forth, looking for the principal.

“Did he just say that he didn’t have enough time?” Lincker snorted.

“I guess we’ll have to teach him to respect his elders, and then we can give him his long awaited punishment,” Tyran grinned mischievously.

With that, Tyran stepped back, raised the palm of one of his hands, and mumbled words of magic.  A ball of electrical bluish-purple energy appeared in his hand, he twisted his hand as he brought his arm down, and threw it at Winterblaze, aiming for his arm.

The ball of energy hit the air in front of Winterblaze’s face and dissipated.  “Not only do I not have the time for your antics,” Winterblaze said, his voice dripping with mock amusement.  “But you’ve got the worst aim in the kingdom.”

Tyran roared with rage and proceeded to throw numerous balls of energy at Winterblaze, but all of them stopped as they hit an invisible wall, and then died out.

Lincker was laughing hysterically now, but stopped as Tyran glared at him.

Winterblaze, thinking the match over, turned and placed his hand on the door handle, but before he could apply pressure, he gasped with surprise.

Tyran grabbed Winterblaze by the neck, his arm wrapping around Winterblaze’s throat.  “You think you can make fun of my and get away with it?” Tyran said, his words burning with anger.  Tyran dragged the struggling boy back down the stairs, followed by Lincker and met up with Hanmit on the way to what Tyran liked to call ‘Chamber’.

“You’ll never guess what happened,” Lincker said giggling as he met up with his brother.  “Tyran got whipped by-“

Tyran glared at Lincker and the boy meekly closed his mouth.

The three dragged the struggling boy to a small room hidden amidst the shadows of deep black.

The thick, rusty, metal door opened with a groan, letting the sound of a hundred dead cries escape from its maw.  Before Tyran’s cronies could shove the now desperate boy into the pitch black and very damp chamber, the principal materialized out of thin air.

“Boys,” the principal acknowledged, startling the boys, causing them to drop Winterblaze onto the floor. Winterblaze quickly scrambled backwards and cowered in the folds of the unlit, velvety blackness.

The trio tried to catch Winterblaze before he went into hiding, but the younger boy was too nimble.  “What is it this time?” Tyran sighed in annoyance.

A small mage light appeared in the hand of the principal and it slowly levitated into the rancid air, a small thin cord emerged from the energy ball, and attached itself to the ceiling.

The ball of light illuminated a small portion of the room.  As it swung back and forth, the light played across Winterblaze’s face; its fingers brushing gently across the boy’s forehead, revealing eyes of coal-red that seemed to flicker back to its natural color.

“I’m here for the boy,” the principal said, his voice calm even after the events leading up to this moment.

“You can have him after we’re done,” Tyran declared defiantly, his eyes glowing with anger.

“I’m getting sick of this,” the principal responded, his voice sounding very hollow.  “Doesn’t anyone care that I am the principal of this wretched school?”

Winterblaze shivered, his body against the rough, cold, stone wall.  His hands twitched as he came up with a plan.

“All you old people have been interruption our fun for the past couple of days,” Tyran spat, oblivious of what Winterblaze was doing.

Winterblaze whispered words of magic as his fingers traced magical patterns in the air.  He drew in a ragged breath before releasing the spell.  “Duesa defe Windesha” Winterblaze whispered, fearful that his plan would fail.  The path Winterblaze had traced lit up with a neon-yellow glow.  A sudden flash blasted through the hallway, suffocating the blackness of the corridor.  The intensity of light forced the creatures to close their eyes, wincing in pain as much of the light pierced through their eyelids.

As the light receded into nothingness, the principal cursed; his mage-light was gone.  Instead of the light, a thick film of translucent mage energy covered the bodies of the Principal and the sixth year students.

“What in Novarian bla-“Tyran sputtered as he tried to produce a mage-light.

Winterblaze, taking full advantage of his opportunity to escape, ran down the hallway, blindly stumbling towards what he thought were the stairs.

“Don’t worry about it,” the principal said, his brooding voice echoing through the corridor.  “I’ll take care of this. Just make sure that the Kesheyer doesn’t get away.”

Tyran’s boots were heard squishing down the hallway as the principal started to murmur, his words slowly breaking down the spell that prevented him from casting any physical manifestations.

Winterblaze reached the stairs as he heard Tyran curse, and raced up the metal planks, towards the light shining from the closed door; towards freedom.

The stairs groaned as they felt the weight of four bodies upon them; although they led from the classrooms to the principal’s office, they weren’t used to this kind of weight.

Winterblaze reached the door and opened it, then streaked down through the hallway, racing towards the main double-doors, his nimble feet barely caressing the ground as they tore up the light dust that had taken up residence on the floor.

Winterblaze cried out as he ran, holding his head, tears streaming from his blue eyes, down his pale face; for the voice had returned, and it was shouting.  His hair turned a golden-red and seemed to float in the air as his eyes turned fiery in color.

Tyran sped past Winterblaze and stood guarding the main doors; grinning, sure that Winterblaze was trapped.

Hanmit and his brother stopped a few paces behind the closest door to the main doors; they were afraid of what had become of the mild kid that everyone could pick on.

Winterblaze extended his left arm to his side, so that it lay higher than his shoulder, then he bent his elbow ever so slightly, and swerved out of the way so that he wouldn’t meet Tyran with a bodily contact.

A lancing cracking sound reverberated through the hallways as Winterblaze’s arm connected with the part of Tyran between his chest and his throat.  Tyran’s body flipped in the air and his head hit the floor, causing one of his teeth to emerge from his mouth.

Winterblaze lowered his arm and rubbed it as he reached the doors.  He flung the doors open and ran into the schoolyard as Hanmit and Lincker helped Tyran to his feet.  The film around Hanmit’s body shimmered slightly, but otherwise remained unchanged.

As Winterblaze ran towards the closest fence, the sun played against the back of his neck, causing his hair to pick up on an unholy glow.  He spread out his right arm and cupped his hand.  “Desu,” he cried out, his voice hoarse.  Small particles of white energy gathered in his cupped hand and started to glow a soft red.  “Flare,” he shouted.  The energy swirled madly and took on the appearance of circular ball of white-hot fire.

Surprisingly, the heat didn’t affect Winterblaze as he flung it at the fence.

The fence hissed as a large hole appeared in its flawless boundary, an offensive stench of charred metal filled the air as smoke rose into the blue sky.

Winterblaze jumped through the hole and landed in a tumble as the undead creatures sensed flesh.  They stumbled towards him, moving faster than he and surrounding him, slowly closing him.  He spun his hands around in a circle, thin threads of fire energy in the air currents of his travel.  The fire lit up and grew larger, expanding upon itself and widening the circle of space around Winterblaze.

One of the zombies screamed a hollow guttural sound as it touched the fire, bursting into flames.  Most of the zombies were smart enough to stay back as the fire grew wider, forming a thin wall of white heat around Winterblaze.  Those that weren’t clever were torn to shreds by the hands of the flame.

Winterblaze’s hands collapsed moments later, his energy exhausted.  The pillars of flame winked out as Winterblaze’s eyes flickered back and forth; his eyes wide with fear, for his plan had failed.

The zombies, realizing that their prey was helpless, started to circle back in, their mouths hanging open, hollow groans of agony pierced their torn lips.  They worked themselves into a loud shuffle as many dragged limbs behind them.

The zombies screamed as a burst of light appeared in front of their prey, their hands covered decaying eyes as they shambled backwards, fearful of whatever as coming towards them.  Yet some of the zombies ignored their unholy instinct to flee and continued their advance towards the living meat.

The zombies were mere inches away from the child when a light-weight sword, made of what appeared to be an unknown iron alloy, appeared out of thin air.  The sword spun in an arc and sliced the torsos off two of the dozen or so nearby zombies.  The flare of light disappeared and the other zombies lurched forward, eager for the hunt.

The sword swung deftly and cut another two zombies in half, this time vertically. The blade slid into the chest of another zombie and tore off its arm.  The zombies stuck out at Winterblaze as the sword disappeared, but they hit an invisible wall of energy.  The wall turned into a half sphere of light-blue material as the principal shimmered into focus.

Winterblaze tried to scream, but his voice as muffled as the principal’s hand smothered him.  The two faded into nothingness and reappeared on the other side of the fence.

The principal shoved Winterblaze to the floor and started to mutter to himself.  The boy picked himself up and looked around.  Tyran and his friends were leaning on the railing of the dormitory steps; waiting for the principal to do whatever it was that was going to do.  The principal himself was quiet, his lips moving as if here were talking to himself.  Winterblaze’s gaze shifted and he cried out.  The hole in the fence had been replaced by a green, neon glow; next to the fence was the petrified body of Snowkire.

The principal snapped out of his trance and noticed Winterblaze staring at the petrified body.  “He sacrificed himself to save the school.  It was foolhardy, for the other teachers would have done something about the fence a few moments later; but he died a hero!” the principal said, his voice unnaturally calm.  “He deserves to be placed in the Chamber of Dargon,” the principal continued.  He muttered a few words and the body of Snowkire disappeared.

Winterblaze was stricken, his mouth struggled to form words for the emotions that he was feeling, but all he could saw was a weak “I’m sorry.”

The principal looked down at the boy and sighed.  “You’re young and foolish.  You shouldn’t try and cheat fate; all that is accomplished by doing so is the demise of others.”

“But why?” Winterblaze questioned suddenly realizing that the principal didn’t truly want to kill him, but rather he had to.  Yet this proved no consolation to him, and he backed off, away from the older man.

The principal sighed again; then looked at Winterblaze, as if trying to decide whether or not to give him a truthful answer.  Then he shook his head and said, “Don’t let anyone else hear what I tell you; that will only cause fear and chaos.”

The principal launched into his speech.

“Ancient legend, older than take of Starblaze’s fight against Novar, tells about the banishment, or perhaps the ‘release’ of the ancient ones.  Long before this country was founded; chaos, disease, and famine threatened to annihilate all living creatures on this continent.    The guardians above who had been given the task of taking care of this continent had no choice but to leave the heavens.  Many of the creatures chose to turn into humans; others remained as dragons and other demons.  But ten of the creatures were trusted with the power of creation and destruction.  Each of those in turn had power over one of the ten powers; water, ice, fire, lightning, earth, magnetism, wind, shape shifting, darkness, and light.”

The principal paused and looked at Winterblaze, then raised his gaze towards the sky.

“It is by sheer lick that the ten powers have never been active at the same time, but neutrality has gotten bored of its job and is seeking the path of utter destruction.  There are only two powers left to be released; perhaps the two which are the most powerful; darkness, and light.”

“But what has any of this got to do with me?” Winterblaze asked, his voice contrasting between interest and fear.  “After all, those creatures are hundreds or thousands of years old, I’ve yet to see the rose of thirteen.”

“So young, and innocent,” the principal responded.  “The power is much sought after these days, and I currently know of an elf that has two of the powers. If a normal human kills a power wielder, the power is passed to a random human; the same is that case if the power holder is not murdered.  But if a power wielder kills another power holder, then the living creature gets to keep both powers.  If all the powers are found, then all the powers can be taken by murder.  And if any one creature gets all the powers, then it becomes invincible.

“Yes, but-“Winterblaze interjected, then it dawned on him.  “What makes you think that I have one of the powers, and even if I did, if you kill me, wouldn’t the power just go to someone else?”

“The prophecies have foretold about a boy from a ruined village coming here with one of the powers, and I have a knife that will destroy the power, so that nobody can have it.”

Suddenly, Winterblaze broke into a run, trying to escape, for even if he did believe the principal, he didn’t want to die.  His mind went blank as the day’s events caught up to him; he had lost his only friend, and it was all his fault.

The principal raised his hand and twisted it, then pulled it back.  Winterblaze let out a gasp of surprise as his feet left the ground and his body flew back, smashing into the dormitory wall.

“Did you hear anything that I said?” the principal shouted in Winterblaze’s face.  Then he looked at Winterblaze’s crying form.  “You’re right; you probably don’t have the power.  The prophecy wasn’t from a trustworthy source anyway.”

The principal looked at the sixth year students.  “Tyran, do whatever you want with him; he’s not but a brat!”

“No, wait!” Winterblaze cried out, but the principal was already gone.

“Finally,” Tyran snickered.  “Hey kid, you’ve wasted enough time, perhaps it really is time to get rid of your stubbornness.”

With that, Tyran motioned for his minions, and they grabbed Winterblaze struggling back into school.  Winterblaze felt detached as he reached the stairs, hic body noticeably ceased struggling.  He’d been through more than Starblaze himself, and he was considerably younger.

Winterblaze didn’t resist as the bullies opened the metal door, its hinges creaked, the rust flaking off after centuries of misuse.  Winterblaze felt nothing as he looked at the blood encrusted whip which lat on the floor.  He barely flinched as the first lash hit him.  But as the lashed continued; nearly reaching a dozen, his clothes were in tatters and his body bled like the tears of the nameless, brunette goddess herself; he felt rage, rage so powerful that even he could not stop from lashing out at his captors.

The voice itself returned to him, building in intensity within his mind. And for once, he gave in, for he no longer cared about anything, or anyone.

All thoughts, sights, sounds, and feelings rushed back into Winterblaze and he howled in pain.  His arms shoved outward as a sudden wind sprang up beneath him.

The sixth year boys cried out as one by one, each was thrown to a different part of the damp, stone room.

A dull light enveloped Winterblaze as the other boys ineffectively struggled to free themselves from the magic that was holding them down.  Winterblaze himself cried out as hot, molten lava coursed through his veins, setting every fiber ablaze with its fury.

A terrible pain raced across his back as it tore half open, letting light shine down upon the large, feathery wings that emerged from within.

Winterblaze’s body convulsed as it changed; his hands turned into sharp, pointed claws; his feet changed as well, turning into the claws of dragons.  His body grew muscular and a tail with a furry tip emerged from the small of his back.

The dull light disappeared and Tyran stared, awestruck by the sheer beauty of Winterblaze’s new body.  His skin had turned a deep shade of bronze and each of his finger length claws seemed to capture the light from the mage-light above.  His muscles bunched and flexed as his slow breath coursed like a new life through his body.  His hair was black in color, and stood up on end, a hands length long.  His face had grown more slanted and his canine teeth had grown an inch longer, hanging over the tops of his lips.

Winterblaze’s wings shared a beauty amongst themselves.  Their length from one tip to the other more than doubled the boy’s size.  The wings were black in color; each feather holding, caressing the light gently, perhaps greedily.

“Ah, I’ve been cramped up in there for so long,” Winterblaze’s voice echoed.  “So, you’re the ones that helped bring me out.” Winterblaze’s gaze shifted to Tyran, his hair billowing in the abnormal wind.  “Let me show you my thanks!”

With that, Winterblaze rose up into the air, his wings beating slowly, his body held aloft by magic.  His clawed hands pointed towards Tyran and his eyes flared, turning as black as a midnight sky.

Tyran screamed as his body went up in flames, the bodies of Lincker and Hanmit followed in the same manner.

“Oh no, it’s not over yet,” Winterblaze cooed as he grinned in front of Tyran’s shaking face.  His index claw reached out and traced along Tyran’s face, drawing blood.  “You’ll live until everyone else in the school is gone.”

The entire school shook as flames leapt out of Winterblaze’s hands, melting the entire basement’s foundations and walls.  The fence vanished and the sea of zombies rushed into the school grounds.  As Winterblaze flew up the flight of stairs that led to the ground floor, the zombies broke through the windows, their hands clawing at the students and teachers.  Many of them fought back and drove the zombies out of their room, but once that threat was over, they faced an even greater darkness.

Winterblaze flew down the hallway, the doors to all of the rooms disintegrated as he flew by.

One of the teachers tried to stop him, his hands holding an enchanted metal blade.  But as Winterblaze came near the teacher, the metal bent over upon itself.  The teacher dropped the weapon which turned into a python as it hit the floor.  Winterblaze stopped his path of destruction and raised his hands.  Bolts of lightning shot out of his palms and engulfed the escaping teacher, and fried the snake into a deep crisp.

Winterblaze found his object of desire at the end of the hallway.  By his time, the entire building, save the main hallway, was up in flames, or had zombies happily gnawing at their livestock.  The principal cowered behind a cross, his hands held the curved black blade.

“Don’t come any closer,” the principal cried out fearfully.

Winterblaze spat, his fingers twisted and the cross turned to dust.  His eyes flared and the knife followed likewise.  He swung on hand to his side and the principal cried out as he was thrown against the wall that Winterblaze was pointing at.  Then he swung his hand to the opposite side, and the principal smashed into the opposite wall.

Winterblaze flew over to the principal and touched his forehead.  The principal screamed as his body turned to water, then to ice, then burst into flames.

The boy grinned to himself as he turned around and headed towards the front door.  Halfway there, he met the nurse.  She babbled something, then trued to scurry away, but the rage within Winterblaze as too strong; the nurse was engulfed in a pool of quicksand.  As Winterblaze neared the front door, Snowkire burst out of one of the doors and stopped dead in his tracks.

“W-Winterblaze?” Snowkire questioned fearfully as he backed away.

Winterblaze raised his right hand and a ball of fire appeared in his hands.

“Please Winterblaze,” Snowkire pleaded, tears running down his ashen face.  “It’s me, Snowkire.”

Winterblaze’s body tensed up and his eyes flickered back and forth between sanity and rage.  Sanity eventually prevailed. “Snowkire, you’re….” he said haltingly, his body convulsing at a rapid rate.

“I-I escaped somehow,” Snowkire mumbled.

The fire returned to his eyes and his right hand swung back, preparing to release the ball of fire.  Winterblaze’s eyes changed back to sanity momentarily. “Go,” he said.  “I don’t know how long I can fight it.”

Snowkire turned and fled.

Winterblaze remained motionless for a time, the light of the flames lapping at his face, playing tenderly with his ears, caressing his neck.  Winterblaze’s conscience returned to him and his actions dawned upon his face.  He screamed out and burst through the ceiling of the building.  His body streaked across the horizon as the school exploded, showering the ground with stone and flame.

A light drizzle picked up hours later, raining down on a lone figure standing amidst the ruins of the school.  Snowkire’s gold tipped, red wings flexed as he thought to himself.  His power wasn’t great enough to defeat a newly released power, but now that nine of the powers had been released, all he had to do was activate the last one.  By doing so, he would be able to pay the world back for what Starblaze had done to his great ancestor... Novar.