His black eyes
peered into the goblet as he pressed the metal edge of the goblet to his
chapped lips, his throat made a loud annoying sound as he gulped the red elixir
down. His skin was a pale peach color, and he wore the clothing of a warrior,
black thick denim pants, and steel toe zip-up boots. A sleeveless cotton zip-up
coat with the zipper un-done. On his right shoulder he wore a mirror coated
metal armor piece, and on his hands were knuckle less black gloves with a
tribal design on the back.
he finished his last gulp of the smooth ruby elixir he lowered the metal goblet
and sat it down on the dresser in front of him, Terron, now twenty one years
old would soon join the Blayders division of the military, he had not yet told
his Step-father, as the fuehrer of Minoa, it was he who would decide if Terron
was ready to join.
old tattered journal sat on his dresser, taunting him with its yellow pages,
multiple liquid stains, and thick leather cover. He was now ready and able to
read it, but he was afraid of what it would say. What if they were not proud of
him? What if it was useless information that he didn’t need anyway? Whatever
the case, Terron would soon know. He turned his attention away from the book
and thought about the past three years, after the creation of his blade he had
became a named whispered in every home from Minoa to the ruins
of Harappan. Never before had a blade of this type been made, Judas joked
that it was just a giant kitchen knife, but even he knew there was something
different about the blade in its self, its size should have made it impossible
to lift, especially for scrawny little Terron, but if that wasn’t weird enough
it was thick on the back, and razor thin to the point. The blade was with
Terron at all times, and he constantly trained with it, it had become a part of
him that would never leave.
come on! It’s almost time for your party!” shouted Judas from the door, but as
he Opened it he realized Terron was gone, and so was the Journal, a clean,
dustless rectangle sat were the dust had covered the book for the past three
years. The only window in his room was wide open letting the dark rain drip
onto the windowsill. Judas looked out the wet window and shouted
better not get a cold on your birthday you punk!” he then left the room to
spread the news that Terron had gone out for the day.
Meanwhile Terron was running
through the trees, clenching the leather book tightly, he wanted there to be no
distractions as he read his mothers final words. Each drop of freezing cold
rain that pierced his flesh shocked his system as he plundered through the
forest, he finally reached an old cave were he used to camp when he was tired
of the pampered life, which was a lot.
The moss covered stones were
slippery at first, but as Terron climbed up to the very top of the cliff he
could see the dark essence of the cave opening, as he entered the cave he
started a fire with the large amount of dry wood he had stored in the back of
the cave, along with many non-perishable food and drink item
Terron slowly walked to the back of the cave, were a small box
of matched sat, untouched for many months. He piled the wood, twigs and leaves
he had kept dry into a small pyramid, he then stuck the match against the stone
floor, the scent of the burning phosphorus filled his nostrils as he tossed the
match into the pile, the fire then became great, Terron surrounded the edges of
the wood with stones to prevent it from jumping too far.
He then sat back onto a large log he had stored a long time ago,
his blade sat next to him, it was motionless, but almost seemed alive. He slowly opened the tattered book, the first
page had an ink hand print, and the size was an infant, probably even a new
He opened to the next page of the journal, and began to read the
words, inscribed in very rough Minoan handwriting, as if it were written by
someone who did not normally write in this language.
If you are alive, your childhood maid
has made sure that you see this journal. I do not even know if I am alive as
you read these pages, and your father is off fighting in the war on the
Harappan people, those awful men from Minoa are killing those poor people, for
land. Because your father does not want there to be unrest in our fair land, he
has made the education services in Gonur not teach about the events leading up
to this war. But as the future emperor
of Gonur you deserve to know the truth, the man who rules the Minoa kingdom, is
a tyrant, a ruthless monster who is driven by false idols and the want to rule
believes that if he can find a weapon strong enough, he can rule the world as a
god himself, while searching for this weapon he came across the numerous,
small, weapon-less villages in the Harappan nation, and when they did not give
him what he believed they had, he ordered their execution, soon the Angor Watt
nation got involved and stormed the occupancies of the Minoan armies, and the
true conflict began.
your father, the Emperor has left the kingdom to go and help the Angor Watt
defeat the Minoan Army.”
Terron was wide eyed by this point, the first page in his mothers
journal, revealed so much to him that he had to set it down to catch his breath
and sanity. Since he was brought to Minoa he had been taught that the Gonur
nation and the Minoan nation were allies in this war, but what concerned him
that much more, was the fact that he, Terron, the poor penniless child that the
Fuehrer had “saved” from the war, was the heir to the Gonur throne. He paced
around the cave, scratching his head, twitching and shaking realizing that his
whole understanding of the world was fake. But he continued reading on; he knew
that this information would be vital for his future.
“My Son May .11
Your father has sent some seeds of the Papayas
that grow in the mangrove canals in the Angor Watt forest, I planted a few of
them in the royal garden, they are sure to get the attention they need there.
Hopefully your father will return in time to see it grow, in his letters he
speaks of how much he has enjoyed snacking on these fruits while he and his men
rest from the battle. I am glad to hear he is pacing himself, I just hope he
does not return with a gut, which would be embarrassing for him. If your father
does not return from the war though, here is a picture of him, and here is a
small bag with a seed from the papaya your father sent.”
Terron then picked up the small photo of a man; he had long black
hair, which was mostly held up in a bun, with a hairpiece holding the bun up.
The man did not smile in this picture, but he did not smile either. The man in
this photo reminded Terron of Stone, earth, rock, emotionless and calculating.
Not a man who would raise a son and send seeds to his wife while he was serving
in a war, there were allot of mixed descriptions of his father in this entry.
The small paper bag was folded several times to where it was concealed into the
pages, as Terron opened the baggie he could see a tiny pale seed, he took it
out of the bag and examined it closely, it had a crease down the side, and
still had very dry pieces of fruit on it as well, Terron placed it into the
paper bag again and continued reading again.
Today I am so proud of you, you have began
training under General Giap, he says that even though you are only five years
of age, you fight as if you are a seasoned beginner, and that by this time two
years from now you will be a true force to be reckon with.
He says that you are able to wield blades that
are much larger than normal, and that you have infinity for acrobatic avoidance
maneuvers and hand to hand fighting movements. He believes that it was the
mixing of both my blood and your father’s royal blood that lead to the creation
of your fighting skills.
I know it will be hard for you to believe
this, but I am in fact a martial arts champion, the day your father and I met
was at a tournament when he was young, I can remember this like it was yesterday,
your father had snuck away from his escort, and placed the disguise of a monk
on to join the tournament, being of royal decent he could not take part in a
peasant fighting tourney. We fought as the final match against each other and I
There was a swarm of arrow flying at me as I
went to help him up, and in the blink of an eye your father cut each of the
arrows down with a blade he kept hidden in his monk robe. From that day on your
father and I were deeply in love, and the day after your grandfather gave the
title of emperor to your father, we found that I was pregnant with you my son.
Do not ever forget, that you are my pride and
my joy. I love you my son.”
Terron whipped the tears from his eyes as he read this, he knew
what this journal was meant to do for him, it was meant to renew his memories,
but even though he could faintly remember the training drills and the painful
weight training of general Giap, he still felt like he needed to know more,
unfortunately, there were several pages torn out, and the dozens that remained
were empty. He stood then walked to the edge of the cave, clutching the diary
in his hand, he looked out to the misty rain filled forest.
He thought of how
several hours ago he had everything planned out, and now he was lost. He put
out the fire, and picked up his blade to start the trek home, he was forming a
plan, to confront the fuehrer about what happened. But to first go through with
his Blayder training. He ran through the rain as swiftly as he could, as he
reached the gates of the mansion he leapt over them in a flawless back flip, he
was then met by Fredrick the driver.
“Ah, Terron, always
makes a big fuss? It is your party in there you know?” he spoke through his
moustache. He always seemed to know where Terron was, and what he was planning.
“Yes sir, I am
going in now.” He answered; there was a feeling of tension as Fredrick stared
at him while he walked to the front door of the manor. Fredrick did not move until Terron was
completely inside the front hall, Terron felt as if he was being spied on.
The front hallway was massive and spotless, it was a long stretch
of completely white walls and furniture, benches and coat racks lined its
walls. The hall was sterile of all color and feeling, just the way the Fuehrer’s
study was, Terron was now entering the study, awaiting the impending scolding
he would receive for being absent at his own party. After reading the journal,
Terron didn’t even know how he would look at the man he once called father, but
he knew if he was going to continue with his plans that he had to put on the
rouge of being his son, which shouldn’t be too difficult seeing as the last
twenty-one years of his life were spent doing the same thing.
The study was
void of color and lit so brightly that as Terron entered his eyes were burnt
from the light. The only thing that distinguished the sides of the walls from
each other was a bookshelf on the back wall, completely filled with books of
all different mediums. Maximilien sat in his chair with a glass of brandy, his
desk lay in front of him with open books and papers filled with scribbles, and
he had recently been studying something.
“Terron? Why are
you here son?” he asked in his usual charismatic tone with a smile. Terron
gulped, what could the punishment for being absent at your birthday party be?
“I was absent today;
I did not show for my own celebration, even though you sent for most of the
senior staff to be here. I have come to receive my punishment sir.” Terron
answered slightly shaking, not from fear, but from anger as he stood there
explaining himself to the man who caused his parents deaths.
raised one of his neatly groomed blond eyebrows in confusion, then replied,
are twenty one years old. I am not angered by the fact that you did not show up
for your celebration. I am very sure you missed it for a good reason. Judas
informed us that you were not in your bedroom so we were not waiting for very
long.” He chuckled through his blond bearded chin.
was mainly a bunch of stuffed coats speaking of the war.” He then leaned back
in his chair and looked at Terron, who was by now sweating from frustration.
something else on your mind son?” he asked leaning forward placing his chin on
his folded over fingers. Terron then stood very straight and said,
“Sir! I want
to become a Blayder! I am now of proper age, and I believe my skills will be
best utilized on the battle field!”Terron then relaxed his pose as Maximilien
stood and turned looking out the window.
eyes filled with worry, he knew that if he denied Terron’s request that it
could lead to him running away, which he could not let happen, but if he were
to join the military he would discoverer what truly happened during the war.
“Very well, tomorrow
I will have Fredrick take you to the training facility. I will have you know Terron;
just because you are my son does not mean they will train you lightly.” Maximilien
Answered with a face of pure seriousness.
“I am prepared
sir. What should I take?” Terron asked still very angry.
take the clothes on your back, and your blade. That’s how it is done.” Answered
Maximilien, his calm charismatic demeanor was now gone and replaced with the
militaristic dictator that Terron had never met. A calculating cold man.
left the study, as he did a man who was standing against the wall, out of Terron’s
eye line stepped forward; he wore a full suit, with neatly groomed gray hair,
and a smug expression on his face.
happening quickly my Fuehrer. First Milos speaks out against you, and then you
send me in to take these pages from his mother’s journal. If he knew what this
war was all about, I don’t know if he would even be capable of pretending to
respect you.” Said the man as he walked over to the desk, he placed the torn
out pages onto the desk, and then looked over at the Fuehrer who was looking
out of the window intently at Fredrick.
Aldrich, your talents have once again diverted our plans from catastrophe.” Maximilien
said, as he did Aldrich bowed and left the room.
Terron sat on his bed; he was eager and excited, angered, and
depressed. The man he had called father for the past many years of his life,
could be a fraud. But Terron still had no idea if what the journal stated was
the truth, it might have been meant for another child, perhaps his father was
general Giap, and the boy who is spoken of in the journal is the true heir to
the throne, regardless, Terron knew he would have to travel to Gonur to find
the real answers. But first he would need the clearance of a Blayder to be
allowed to travel from nation to nation. And his Blayder training would begin