Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Tales of an Argonian Prince ❯ Lost Knowledge ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

It was a calm day in the Cerenian planes. The wind blew lightly across the land, blowing the blades of grass upon it peacefully as it made its way eastward to the nearby lake, where it caused ripples upon the surface of the water. It travelled across the lake, up the hills that surrounded it and through the leaves of the trees and bushes. And then, suddenly, abruptly, the very air itself was cut by the sharp edge of a rune blade. Metal clanged against metal only an instant later with imperceptible swiftness. Less then a second later, another ring followed it, then another and yet another. The swirling wind came all about the dueling pair, blowing through the brown hair of the younger man and across the scarred, black-bearded face of the older.

The two had been locked in combat for nearly a full hour, and yet the only one who seemed any worse for the wear was the senior of the two. The young man seemed to merely be dancing about him, playfully slapping his blade out wide or up high before tauntingly dancing in for a strike designed to merely put his opponent off balance. The older man, by contrast, strained every muscle and tendon in his well-built, stocky body to keep up, furiously and futilely working his offensive drive. "Stop playing with me!" he commanded in his gruff voice, one that aptly matched his many-scarred, battle-hardened body.

"How can I be serious when my opponent shows such an obvious lack of skill?" the youth shot back, a mischievous smirk on his face. This drew a growl from the older man, which only served to deepen the young man's mocking laugh. "If you're that insistent, then so be it." With that, he drove on furiously, driving past the guard of the old man and slapping about his face twice before rushing him with a shoulder-thrust that sent him back on his heels. The next offensive drive followed precisely after that, causing the already-unbalanced man to step back a few paces, running squarely into a low-cut tree stump and causing him to fall over backward. "Game, set, match," the young man said as he held the point of his blade to the older man's throat.

The old man simply stared at the youth for several minutes. "When did you get that skilled?" he had to ask, truly impressed by the display of skill he'd just shown.

"The question is not when I gained skill. It is when you became rusty," the teen retorted, sheathing his sword and extending his hand to help his old mentor to his feet.

"Har, har, har," the man dryly mumbled. "You seem to have missed my compliment," he continued in a full voice, choosing to ignore the playful insult rather then pursue it with more words.

"If I'm skilled, it's only because of your training," the student replied, finally deciding that the time for games and playful exchanges was over.

"No. Not quite," the older man corrected. He looked pensive for a moment, but it passed quickly and he was back to speaking before long. "James, you are the best student I've ever had. When you first came here, you were nothing more then a helpless infant, and now look at you. You're a grown man now, and you're a far better Spellsword then I. That said, I'm not surprised in the least at your progress."

"Oh?" James simply asked, the most practical way he knew to ask his conversational partner to please continue.

"There are many things about your own past that you aren't aware of, m'boy," the man explained.

"I see you're as cryptic as ever," James stated.

"You're right," the old man concurred, and there was another pause. "Come with me, boyo. It's time you were told about your past."

***

James and the old master were indoors now, sitting at a great table with a far older man, whose head had long gone bald and whose long beard had been gray(and slowly turning white) for as long as James had known him. Despite his obvious old age, it was also obvious that he was not to be taken lightly, for he still retained a good posture, a well-muscled body and a look of determination in his eyes that no number of years could extinguish. The three had been sitting in silence for some time now, finishing up the last of their evening meals before discussing the rather serious matter that was at hand.

Finally, the old master put down his fork and knife, wiped his mouth with his napkin and motioned for the academy servants to take the dirty dinnerware away. Then, at last, when they are alone, the head master felt safe to speak freely. "You are indeed a good student," he stated, his gaze resting upon James. "Never before has anybody completed the training of a Spellsword at such an early age." James merely nodded and smiled, taking the compliment in stride. "That's not surprising, though," the headmaster continued, "Considering your Argonian blood."

"Please," James dared to interrupt, "Don't flatter me so. Good is one thing, but to compare me with an Argonian? Don't you think that's a little much?"

"It was no compliment," the scar-faced master replied, and that gave the youngest of the three considerable pause.

The headmaster smiled as he saw the youth thinking about that statement. It meant that he would have less explaining to do, for he was intelligent enough to figure out for himself what that meant. "That's right," he stated as James turned a look that betrayed his fear to believe the headmaster's way. "You are an Argonian, and that's not all. You are a member of Argion's royal family, and the legitimate heir to the Argonian throne."

"That's not possible!" James gasped, still staring wide-eyed and unblinking at the academy headmaster. There was a silence in the room for several minutes after that, broken only by the occasional muttering of 'Impossible' and 'Inconceivable' and other such similar words.

When the relative silence was finally broken, it was the Headmaster who once again spoke. "You were sent to us when you were not but a small infant," he stated. "You were born not long before Argion was wrested from the hands of its rightful monarchs. When Nicodemus came to end your family, you were brought to this academy by Ithian, Castle Argion's Archmage. You were to be safe here in Cerenia from the prying eyes at work in Argion until you were old enough to decide for yourself what to do and capable enough to actually do it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" James asked, finally deciding that a conversation of this nature was far too serious to leave any room for the possibility of a prank.

"And what would have happened if we had?" the black-haired mentor asked. "Would you have had the same experiences you have now? Would you have gone through even half of the trials you have knowing you were a royal Argonian?"

"I don't know," James admitted.

"And neither did we," the Headmaster picked up. "It was not a risk we were willing to take."

"Then why are you telling me now?" James pressed on.

"Because you are old enough now," the headmaster replied. "Because you deserve to know. Because you are ready for this knowledge now where you weren't before. Because among all the peoples in Bilovea, it is you who has the best hope of someday defeating Nicodemus."

"Argion is already lost to darkness and evil. What point is there in defeating him now?" James asked, half out of genuine curiosity and half because he still didn't want to believe the gravity of what he'd just been told.

"The shadow of Nicodemus is no stagnant thing!" the scarred man replied. "If left alone, it will grow. If allowed to grow, it will become unstoppable. If it is allowed to reach that state, it will spread. Then, not even you will be able to end him."

"What do you expect me to do?" James asked, his voice taking on a slight fearful tremble. "What can a boy like me, who hasn't even reached 18 yet, possibly do against the army of a Warlock? Do you really expect me to just waltz into Argion and take the throne? And- What about after that? I don't even know how to rule a sandbox, much less an entire kingdom!"

"There is no one who can tell you what to do with this knowledge," the Headmaster assured him. "Whatever you do, you must decide it for yourself and do so quickly. Time is a luxury no free man has much of any longer."

"We will leave you to your deliberation for now," the black-bearded man continued. "When you have made up your mind, you know where to find us." And with that, the two masters left the room to allow the youth to sort out his thoughts.

***

Several days passed before James sought out the Headmaster again. He seemed calmer now, far more reserved with the fear he doubtless still carried inside of him. his face was still quite pensive as he walked over toward his old master. The two stood there in silence, content to simply stare out at the peaceful Cerenian landscape for a few moments. Finally, the Headmaster looked aside and broke the silence. There was a conversation that needed to be had. "James?" he asked. It was all he had to say.

"I can't do this alone," he stated, "And I can't ask you to involve yourselves. You've already done so much for me; implicating yourselves and the academy in a war against Nicodemus will put you at risk." As James spoke, his master merely nodded his head, listening well to all that he had already known James would most likely say. What he said next, however, did surprise him. "I have my things packed," he stated. "I will be leaving now. I have only come to you for any advice you have for me."

"You're leaving already?" he asked.

"I decided I'd be leaving a few minutes after you left the room," he stated. "The past few days have just been a matter of preparing myself for that eventuality."

"Then I wish you good luck," the Headmaster stated.

"Just one thing before I go," James pleaded. He didn't wait for the elder man's answer before he blurted the question out. "Did you know my father?"

"No," he answered shortly. "All that I knew of him was what I heard in stories. The way I understand it, he fought quite the battle for his kingdom. People who had met him called him a hero almost universally. On this continent, that's no small compliment."

"I see," he stated. "Then..." He turned to fully face him and extended his hand. "Thank you, old man, for everything you've done for me."

"Thank you, young man," he replied, "For not letting my teachings go to waist." And with that, the younger man started off. "One last thing," he stated, causing James to pause. "I happen to know the location of a powerful magical sword. Obtaining it would be a good first step on your journey."


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OKAY! That's chapter 1. Please join us next time in Tales of an Argonian Prince, where the action is going to pick up very quickly! A new 'main' character will be introduced, and the story will segue into the central setting for the next couple of chapters! It's all coming up in Chapter 2: Search for the Magic Sword! Don't miss it!