Prologue: One Dark Memory

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            An eerie mist arose in the darkening hour of day.  The thick lush forest sang out beautifully with the nightingales and mystical froglets of the nearby crystal pond.  Then another voice added to the nocturnal chorus, unlike any to be familiar.  Its ethereal magic danced lightly amongst the night lilies and frolicked amongst the fireflie­s, in perfect harmony.  Unable to control his curiosity for a moment longer, he took one last draw at the mighty sword, ending the dedicated session of sharpening.

            Before his thoughts had been shattered by the enchanted singing, Shen had not been able to keep his mind from the raging events that thwarted all peaceful creatures living within the ever-so-watchful eye of the evil but most powerful warlord.  He had suddenly come to reign, demanding carnage in his cruel wake and taking what should never have belonged to the demon.

            Shen withheld a ragged sigh.  He had felt a near cowardice in fleeing.  It was the only way he could offer protection for his new family.  He raised steel eyes to his home, the windows aglow with warm light.  He could see her shadow moving about as it tugged a small wrinkle at the corner of his lips.

            Fleeing, he thought with a drowning disgust at himself as he rose to sturdy legs of sinew, was the only choice forced upon him once his creed had been wiped away.  He was the last one.

            The enchanting singing pierced into his vortex of thoughts as he raised his chin into the air, eyes averted to the skies overhead.  Perhaps a walk would be in order so that he could clear his clouded mind?

            Shen turned over his shoulder, proffering the singing a promise of exploration.  It would just have to wait one moment longer.

            The evening had proven to be quite an enchanting one.  He inhaled the sweet scents of the nearby pond.  Then, with one last look over his shoulder, Shen entered his primitive, but warm earthen home.

            He could hear his companion moving about in the larder humming his newborn son’s favored lullaby.  “Love?” a sweet rich voice gently called out from the kitchen.  “Are you going somewhere?”  A soft cry was then heard from their son as its tune gently floated within the cozy home.

            Shen muffled his exhalation of slight impatience, desiring to explore the nocturne and the mystifying voice he had heard only a moment ago.  “I won’t be long, Mayanna,” he spoke, finding her with his little boy at her breast.

            Mayanna, with her astounding gray eyes and inky hair, smiled lovingly, reaching upon the tips of her toes for a kiss from her beloved Shen.

            Shen bent his head as he caressed his son’s soft cheek, his lips receiving the sentiment from his wife.  “I shan’t be long, dear.”  He flung his worn battle cloak across brawny shoulders and stepped out before she could say more.

            As Shen journeyed through the darkening paths of the forest just outside his home, he allowed his mind to wonder into a time when trials seemed a whole lot simpler.  He could still remember the village he had grown up in, which had never really brought any kind of happiness to his longing heart.  And what he longed for, he did not know, but Shen found that entertaining his talent of the ancient arts of swordplay as well as archery had found him peace.  At least, for the meanwhile.  It was after he grew in strength and sharp skill that he challenged others through the entering of all the local galas.  His avid dedication of practicing had always earned him winner’s status.

            Many of the swooning maidenkind had often plagued him; nevertheless, his empty heart remained afloat.  He had always felt there was more to his life than a domestic village dweller--he so wanted to join in combat.  This turn of heart was invoked by a small insurrection, against a lone but bloodthirsty Sychra, that had grown into a near full-bloom.  However, Shen felt that even the thought of being a mighty dragon slayer greatly appealed to his wild spirit as well.  He had constantly pushed himself to explore his highest potential…

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