Prologue to The Black Order

Prologue


    A young boy with snow white hair and vibrant golden eyes, wearing a finely hand woven cloak that switched between the colours of grey brown and green or a mix between all three. He decided that it was a combination like warm water river that were common in the forests around that land. The passing by-standards could not even tell what shade the distorted cloth was, but it didn't matter. Because the boy liked it no matter what it look like. He was really scrawny wearing black pants along with a long sleeved mock-neck shirt with a dark brown pair of greaves. He was darting around the whole street, looking around the chained metropolitan city while cautiously running through the streets, watching around every corner for some unseen object that was going to kill him if he couldn't spot it.
    His foot steps were silent along the stone paved roads that he was sprinting down as his cloak was blowing furiously in the wind rushing past him. The sun had just set causing the sky to turn dark shades of grey and blue which made it even harder to see whatever he was searching for. The boy knew it was late and past his curfew, but he just hoped he could get home without getting caught or stopped by a noisy patrol man. His pace remained constant for a long time but every now and then he would slow do to consider where he was as well as to rest his body some.
    The night lights kicked on a moment or two later shining on the old cobble streets making the boy's shadow stretch across the entire road as it followed behind him while he quickly jogged around corners and navigated long open passage ways.
    "Man I hope he is late, or forgotten that I left that long ago on my so called "holiday" and still haven't returned," he mumbled while he dashes around a tight corner and into a dull, shady, narrow alley.
    A older man wearing a similar outfit, with medium blue eyes was watching the young boy desperately blaze out of the narrow passageway. The man shook his cloaked head as he walked off the building, landing directly in front of the boy's way. He saw the figure out the top corner of his vision and gasped, as he skidded to a stop in front of the cloaked man crouching in front of him, nearly toppling both of them over, from his rush.
    The man was scrawny as swell but was highly toned due to years of experience. He resembled that of one of the legendary rangers of old. The man slowly stood making sure not to hurt himself any more, even if he managed to hurt himself from the fall, which he rarely ever did. The hood shielded his eyes from the sun, but also blocked the view of any one who tried to see his face. Th boy knew that he was in trouble and not just by the looks of this assassin who he managed to resemble.
    "Sorry about being out so late...I just got carried away that's all," he said in a pleading tone, like he knew his purser who captured him.
    The man did make any movement or response to the boy's comment. He slightly turned his head from left to right.
    "Some things will never change will they, Diell?"
     The boy knew that what the older man said was an insult, but it was true. Diell most of the time either showed up late, or on the last minute to gatherings or training practice. He knew that his master didn't like him doing that, but most of the time the boy couldn't help it, he was just to caring and couldn't force people to leave him alone or get out of his way so he would not arrive on the last minute. The assassin's cape twirled as he pivoted around back in the direction to where the child was running to. The boy made a silent gulp as he followed the older man. He knew that he was in a hurry and couldn't afford to be late, but he had to go out and look for him, which probable made him a little miffed.
    The two walked for almost half an hour towards the centre of the chained city. The damp fog was filling up the roads, and came to rest just above their ankles. Diell kept on walking a single question boiled in his mind, but he knew the older man might be mad at him and wouldn't take the question so kindly.
    "Junior?..."
    "Huh..." the man said not breaking from his chain of focus on the direction of travel that they had to go.
    "I was wondering around the city and I over heard a few people mention that the city is protected by a guardian, and that it even contained a special magic that no one could take, and I know that you've told me those things when I was younger. But I wonder what exactly do they mean by the guardian?"
    Junior shakes his head and tuts. "You don't know do you?"
    Diell looks up at him while walking with a bewildered look on his pale face.
    The assassin and his apprentice walked for a few minutes through the mist to the middle of the massive Gothic styled city. A large figure blurred by the steamy grey white streaked mist stood in the direct centre of the chained borought. The boy strained his eyes to make out what the figure truly was. The older man stood still for a moment for he knew who this figure really was. Then he slowly walked closer to image while the young boy stayed hot on his heals. The fuzziness of the phantasm cleared and exposed the statue of an angel of that was earlier concealed by the thick fog. The angel had it's wings halfway spread open, and it's hair seamed to be blowing in an imaginary wing. He was wearing a cloak similar to that of the ones the assassin's were wearing except his had a layer of fur on his shoulder and a unique masked carved in the middle on the back of the hood. The hair of the sculpture was rather long in length for a man in that era, but was common in most artworks of celestial beings. The hair had long parted bangs that partially draped down in front of his face. He was thin and not wearing any armour, uncommonly seen in most drawing or representations of  winged creatures like himself. The sword he wielded was a broad sword raised into a defensive position. An eagles head made up the pommel and the blade had and elegant vine design that ran up to the middle of the blade then swirled around to end it. The guardian was facing a certain direction while looking ready to defend the city that he was said to protect.
    Diell focused on the angel's eyes then out towards where he thought he was looking at.
    "What is he suppose to be looking at?"
    Junior turned down and looked at the young boy standing next to him then out to where he was looking.
    "There," he said as he pointed his finger out to a field that was just barely visible over the horizon.
    Diell's look of inquisitively grew deeper for he didn't know why that valley had so much importance.
    The man looked down at the pass of the stature at a metal plate with engraving at the feet of the huge being. "I have seen what comes of those who raise themselves above others. Men must be free to do what they believe. It is not our right to punish ones for thinking what they do, no matter how much we disagree." Was etched into the metal plate on the sculpture that faced upwards toward the sun and moon.. The older assassin lowered his head and took a deep breath over the deeper meaning of the words he just read to himself. Then he turned and looked down at his apprentice. Some day you will know what this really means, for this is the Black Order's code. "We work in the dark to serve the light," Junior silently whispered in his mind. "Come on lets go, Deill before your mother has a fit that we both stayed out here this long." the man said while walking off deeper into the mist.
    The boy stood in place for a short moment still confused over what exactly the guardian statue was suppose to be protecting before scurrying off to catch up with his experienced master.
    A minute passed since the two met back up and started walking. "What is it that you don't get?"
He quickly looked up at the man walking next to him while wiping the expression of perplexity off of his small narrow face.
    "Just that I don't entirely know what he was looking at that's all."
    Junior nods, "I know what you mean most people don't know either so don't worry yourself about it-"
    "May you tell me the story, please, Junior?"
    The older master assassin looked down at his trainee and a small smile managed to be seen from the shadow of his hood that draped over his head. "You ask a lot of questions don't you? I'm afraid that you'll fall asleep and I'll have to carry you. It's a long story and you'll have to walk while listening. I don't think that you can multi-task that well, and you are very one track minded," he comments in a mocking voice.
    "Come on I'm not that simple minded enough to listen to the story about a guardian. And you always know that I pay attention to history lessons well."
    The older man is still smiling a little. A small chuckle emits from his mouth. "I guess you do don't you. all right then you twisted my arm." His head faces forward towards the direction that he is walking, and his voice deepens to that of a serious one as he begins to tell the legacy of the guardian who protected their home city.
    "The sky was filled with dark fumes, and new ashes fell gently onto the war-torn ground like winter snow. This was know as the battle of Pandermeria which lasted for almost half a century. The general of the whole human side was a majestic, powerful angel named Rios. He and his army along with his other four angels brothers, joined forces to fight the armies of Hell, who later became known as the Kishins. The human side was vastly outnumbered and the Kishins were on the rise and rapidly moving towards Metronome. The war had raged on for many decades. Thousands of lives had been lost on both sides, allowing the underworld's king Asura to form a portal leading up to the land of the living making it easier to get his troops and supplies onto the battlefield.
    And just as all hope seemed lost Rios and the second brother Sadour managed to work out a counter strike against the invading army. Both of them used the strongest metals that they could find on this world and in heaven to create a powerful sword that could slay even the cruellest, and darkest of beasts that Asura could conjure. Who's blade would never go dull, and would be the strongest when all hope had seemed gone. The sword would be the light in the darkest that could never be extinguished. But the sword had a price that must be paid; only one with a pure heart and right desire could be able to wield it. All the other who tries their hands became scorched just on contact and prolonged exposure could be fatal.
    That was a very useful and intelligent thing that Sadour did, for the sword can only have one master. During the final siege of Pandermeria Rios had become corrupt and only sought blood. He had forgotten about the others and only wanted to win that battle, so the sword turned on him, and plummeted to the battlefield right in front of him. Unaware to Rios, Sadour happened to be watching and saw the events that just played out, and knew that this was a bad sign.
    The older brother managed to scurry over during the heat of battle and retrieve the sword. Even though he had forged the sword he could not wield it, for it's power was to eminence for him to bear. He then flew off and hid it deep inside the dark woods. A place that lays just on the edge of the portal of Hell. A forest  so terrifying that even the trees themselves are scared of what lurks inside the shadows inside hidden but the unearthly darkness that surrounds it. Not any creature dares to set foot into that obscure casement that reeks of death and chaos.  Sadour had concealed it their so that no unworthy soul would ever set foot on it without a purpose or if the sword called out to them hoping to find it's true master.
    All of this was done without Rios' conceit which mad him angry at his younger brother, and caused him to plunge ever so deeper into the darkness that was festering inside his corrupt heart. It is said after that, that he fought with all the furry of a storm made of knives and showed no mercy on those who opposed him. Some times even letting his victims suffer which was against the angel's way.
    Sadour had never told his younger brother where the sword lay, but there was a bigger problem now at hand. Asura had created a metal being that was controlled by a tortured soul that he had utterly broke for just this purpose. And without the sword Rios and all his men could not defeat it, all they could do was wound it enough so it would have to be sent back to Hell, so they could buy more time. All of the angels gather together to discus the new threat that faced them. That is all but one; and that is where his story begins.