The Dragon Fang

This is only a rough draft. Mainly a rough story line of where my story will be heading. This is the updates of my good copy >>> "The Dragon Fang - Search for the Sword" 


Prologue:

In a time of darkness a sword was forged. This sword combined the purest of metals. Its hilt was imbued with the properties of the Great Dragon.
The sword was hidden in a Giant Temple, protected by two stone Guardians.

Wise Men prophesied that a child would come into this world, grasp the sword, and destroy the Evil One. The Legends were scattered throughout the world, and became infamous.

Many adventurous sought for this sword, and many false prophets claimed they were they the Chosen One. But that was foolish, for they were quickly killed and their remnants were scattered.

The Evil One grew in power, and ordered for the search of the Legendary Sword to be obtained and destroyed.

But his henchmen were not loyal and even though they feared him, this search was never vast, as the Great Dragons that guarded the Sword were always more feared.

Finally a child was born. In his village he was known as Sam. And in their eyes he was a child of no significant importance.

But words reached the Evil One, and that was the day, the child’s destiny was to be fulfilled.



Chapter One:

The Evil One

“I want that child found!” snarled Dread, an evil and powerful Dark Lord whose name spread fear among this realm. Dread looked around at his henchmen, but as he glanced at them they looked away in fear, sweat trickling down their foreheads. His men were a formidable team, ranging from the common horsemen to the occasional Orc, dumb but truly opposing.

A brave soldier stepped forward startling the trembling footmen surrounding him. Fear made him not able to control the volume of his voice. “Master!” he yelled.

Dread focused his gaze to that one lone soldier. Sweat poured down the man’s face, he tried to regain his posture; he tried to push the fear that was bubbling beneath his skin. The sweat from his forehead pounded to the ground, a strange silent echo could be heard and Dread could smell the delicious taste of fear… “Why do you want that child?” he managed to stutter.

Dread looked at the foolish stuttering man and bared his teeth furiously. “Have you not heard the Dragon Fang Legend?”

The man did not answer so he continued.

“The Legend states that a mere child will be the downfall of the infamous Dark Lord!” The Dark being smiled a grim smile. “And you do not want that!”

The cowardly soldier spoke up bravely. “But surely YOU are not afraid of a child!”

The room went strangely quiet.

The cowering man realized to late the foolish mistake he had made.

Dread stared at him, grinding his teeth; muttering a curse to himself. Silence shortly followed, but only for a brief second as the man collapsed on the ground holding his head and begging for mercy. Dread showed his palm to the onlooking, mostly mortified creatures, before slamming his hand shut causing the screaming man to become deathly quiet, as he fell to the ground, and brown liquid oozed out of his ear, showing to the dark army of Dread, his awesome power. His brain had been crushed.

“Let this be a lesson to everyone! I have power no mortal from earth, or creature from the underworld can comprehend. If anyone attempts treason, or questions my power, they will feel my wrath, and I will destroy them …” He paused dramatically letting his daunting words seep in, before he continued. “Now go, find that boy and kill him!”

The room began to march quickly, to do Dread’s bidding, but his voice made them once again pause in fear. "No wait, I will go with you, I want to see his small scared face, as he realizes his young pitiful life is nearly over!” He laughed at that dastardly comment, and narrowed his eyes at the dark army that would preform his will.
“Do not fail me!” He screamed before the room once again edged quickly to the exit.

Dread smiled in grim satisfaction at the foolish beings that were to clouded in fear to realize the deed (and mistake) they were performing.
“Once this child is out of the way, no one can stop me. World dominance shall be mine, and everyone will worship me” he mumbled to himself, trying to hide the excitement of the death that he would be causing as he progressed towards his goal.

A slow voice interrupted his thoughts. “Master … Found boy”.

Dread turned to face the dumb creature that had spoken. He knew intimidation would not work, as the Orc was so stupid it knew no fear. “We will ride at once” was all that was replied.



Chapter Two:

I have found you at last!

Far away in a small village, a celebration is held. Jax the Great had been promoted to an honourable Barron and not many men can boast of a feat this great.

Jax was well known throughout the world and was considered infamous with popularity quickly growing. He had slain Dragons, destroyed wizards and had vowed to put an end to the Dark Lords reign of terror.

The crowd surrounding Jax seemed endless, the line waiting just to touch the hem from his flowing garment wavered on for what seemed like miles. Sweet aromas filled the air, and many people looked at the overfilled tables eagerly waiting for the feast to begin.

Behind the crowd unnoticed to most, was a small boy. He was considered short for his age, with scruffy brown hair and a thin layer of dust covering it.

The boy looked at the crowd and tried to push past the screaming fans, but being weaker then most made his attempts futile. He was just about to try again when a familiar voice only heard by his ears was yelled.

“Sam? Sam! Where is that boy? He better not be getting dirty!”

Sam was pondering whether he should make a run for it, as his mother clearly wanted him to do a chore for her, and today was Sunday, which meant he would be forced to wear his good Sunday clothes; uncomfortable! He was readying himself to sprint to the forest when his mothers cross voice paralysed him to the spot.

“Young man don’t you move a muscle!”

He slowly tuned around and smiled a cheeky grin. “Hey mum, I was just looking for you. Can’t wait try out my new Sunday clothes,” he said with forced happiness.

His mother noting the sarcasm smiled and replied quickly “Good, you can get dressed straight away, that is after you have collected some water from the well”.

“Yes mum …” Sam said rather reluctantly as collecting water was one of the worst chores possible!

He turned slowly towards the path that led to the well and began to walk muttering to himself about child’s rights and one day in the future there will be such a thing. Upon reaching the well, he took a bucket and slowly filled it with water. Just as he was about to retreat back to the feast, a voice made him pause in shock.

“Ah Sam I have found you at last…



Chapter Three:

The White Shaman

Sam stared open-eyed looking nervously for the owner of the mysterious voice.

“I have found you Sam, I have been looking for you for some time, not an easy lad to find are you? Are you going to say something, didn’t your mother ever teach you it is rude to ignore someone when they speak to you?”

Sam’s increasing shock pushed away the fear. “And didn’t your mother ever teach you to show yourself when you talk,” he replied smartly.

The voice began to laugh.

“You are exactly how I pictured you Sam; smart talking, minimum fear and a rebel at heart. You do realize, you just back chatted a being so powerful, I could destroy you and any evidence you ever existed?”

Sam too began laugh, as he doubted the voices threats. “Oh come on! Show yourself, you’re going to get me in trouble, and I doubt mums going to believe me when I tell her a powerful hidden voice delayed me from getting dressed”.

“Look around Sam,” the voice replied.

He followed the voices advice, and let out a terrified whimper, fear quickly overtaking the shock. For what he saw was his friends, family, neighbours and strangers he had never met before, frozen. He glanced at one person to another eyeing them down, begging them to move, if only one finger. His glance stopped at a close friend, he had a cup halfway to his mouth, but never taking that sip that he longed for. He glanced at another person, this time his uncle. He looked like he was pocketing a muffin. His facial expression looked shocked and slightly guilty as someone in front him had busted his actions. The final person he noted was his mother. She was laughing, her long flowing hair, hair colour similar to Sam’s, flowed in the wind, but she to was frozen.

“What did you to them?” he asked rushed, anger now pushing the fear backwards. “Unfreeze them at once” he demanded.

“Relax Sam, they are perfectly safe. I think now that I have your attention, I shall show myself to you. I want you however to remain calm as you will be shocked”.

Sam still trembling from anger screamed “Show me now or I swear I’ll …” The mysterious voice interrupted his meaningless threat.

“You’ll what Sam?” A bright beam of light followed the voices comment, blinding him, making him rub his eyes in awe. Their standing before him was a figure clad in white. Her robes were white, her arms were a pale white and her hair it too was white.

“I am a Shaman Sam … a White Shaman”.

He stood their shocked, feet paralysed. Finally he managed to mutter something barely heard. “It’s impossible, they’re a myth!”



Chapter Four:

The Chosen One

The Shaman laughed. “Sam if I were a myth, would I be standing here in front of you showing you power you would have never imagined?”

Sam slowly backed towards the path contemplating weather he was fitter enough to outrun a creature that had most likely seen the world be created.

“Sam, don’t try running,” she said clearly reading his thoughts. “And sorry to disappoint you Sam, I never got to see the world be created, I was busy that day”. She laughed.

Sam fell to his knees shocked and slightly aggravated that the Shaman was making jokes at his expense.

“I must be dreaming”

The Shaman extended a pure white hand and helped him to his feet. "I wish it was a dream Sam” she replied. "If it were, maybe the Dark Lords reign of terror would also be figment of your imagination. But he exists, and so do I. But the reason I am here is a serious and urgent matter".

Sam joked quietly to himself out of shock. “So urgent you had to freeze my entire village?”

The Shaman laughed quietly and handed him a dirty parchment of paper, that looked like it had been turned over and read many times.
“The paper you hold in your hand is a parchment of the famous Dragon Fang Legend. You would have studied it in school.”

Sam nodded but quietly added “We studied it in Mythology”. He outlined the word mythology.

The Shaman ignored his tone and stated seriously “Sam that legend is not a myth, the Dark Lords time has come and his days are numbered”.

He looked down at the crumpled parchment in his hand and read one bold statement.

'A child shall obtain the Dragon Fang Sword and bring defeat to the Dark Lord. He will be called the Chosen One'.

“Sam,” the Shaman said. “You are apart of this legend". Emotions filled Sam’s body as he read the parchment and listened to the Shaman’s comment. First came disbelief. He thought that the ‘Almighty’ Shaman who never makes any mistakes had made a huge mistake. He was Sam. Pitiful weak Sam! Then came shock. He tried to utter something to rebut those daunting words the Shaman had showed him, but none came. Finally came anger. “Why are you showing me this!” he screamed. “I am not some Chosen One! I am Sam, weaker then average Sam! I’m not even that smart! You should be asking Jax or someone!”

The White Shaman just looked at him, letting him release his anger. She expected this.

“Sam,” she finally said after a minute of silence. “You are strong, you are what the legend expects of”.

Sam let out another scream and threw the already dirty parchment to the floor, adding another layer of grime.

He was just about to run, when a scream was heard from the village.

He let out an excited yelp, thinking the Shaman had gotten his point and had unfrozen his village never to bother him again, when a panicked voice was heard.

“It’s Dread!”

Sam’s excitement turned to fear and slowly snuck a glimpse at the barely visible Shaman.

However she looked different, her face was twisted in agony and the holiness that he felt before was gone. She seemed afraid and seeing a powerful being fear Dread made Sam even more terrified.

He was still paralysed from fear when a dieing voice cut into his thoughts.

“Sam, he's too evil … my power … fading every time he draws closer … you must run … can’t fight it … run …”

She faded away and he was left alone to fend for himself. The Shaman’s feeling of calmness was gone and the fear that he felt before amplified.

Screams surrounded him now, as the once frozen people began to realize their predicament and their nearness to death.

Sam also feeling the fear began to run. He was nearing the village when he realized he had forgotten an important piece of paper; the parchment of paper that the Shaman once held. Looking back at the well where it had fallen, he closed his eyes and ran as fast as he could to that holy paper. Scooping it up and clenching it tightly in his fist he bolted to the safest place in the entire village … the church.

He ran past panicked people and using strength fear had placed on him, pushed past the strangers and people he loved to find himself at the giant oak doors of the church. He swung them open and ran to the furthest corner he could find, fell to the ground and began to sob.

He muttered prayer after prayer to his many gods asking for protection, asking that the huge stonewall of the church will hold against the feared Dark Lord.

He shut his eyes and tried to block out the screams that echoed around the church. Some how the noise was evident past the stonewall and clear to his ears.

The screaming slowly subdued and he wondered weather his people were dieing, or to exhausted to continue their sobbing.

A familiar voice was suddenly heard bringing hope to Sam and to his people. “Dread I command you to leave this village and it’s inhabitants!”

Sam recalled that it was Jax’s voice, the hero and saviour of the village.

“Ah Jax, the ‘almighty’ hero that has vowed to put a stop to me!”

Sam noted sarcasm in the Dark Lords voice.

The Dark Lord continued to speak. “I will let you live Jax, and your pitiful people, if you let me have one small child, is that not a fair proposal?”

Silence followed and Sam held his breath. He hoped that Jax refused that offer, for he had a sneaky suspicion that he was the child Dread longed for.

Finally Jax answered. “I refuse Dread, if that child you are seeking belongs to the village, then you will have to get through me to enter this village”.

Sam sighed a sigh of relief, he was safe, he was rescued, he was …”

A blood curdling scream interrupted his thoughts. Screams from the villagers followed and a disgusting decaying aroma wafted past his nose.

“Find that child and bring him to me” Dread screamed.

Sam closed his eyes again and began to pray fearing for his life once more. Seconds turned into minutes, and those agonising minutes felt like they stretched into hours.

More voices were later heard.

“We have searched the entire village master, no sign of the child.”

“He is here, I can taste his fear” Dread replied, and Sam could hear the grinding of his teeth. “Have you searched the church?” Dread asked, frustration evident in his voice.

No one answered and Dread screamed.

“Fools! He is! I know it! Search it!”

Silence followed, Sam’s heart beat loudly and he feared it would be heard.

Finally a voice spoke up quietly.

“Master … I don’t think it would be right if we … disturbed the Gods”.

Sam laughed quietly to himself, trying to ignore the fear. “The evil minions of Dread are religious” and he pictured them all wearing colourful robes and performing funny religious dances.

Dread screamed again, which cut Sam’s childish, fear ridden giggles short.

A voice in a steady tone of rhythm began to recite words in a language alien to his ears.

But just as the voice ceased, pebbles from the ceiling of the church roof began to fall, silently echoing the rein of destruction that would come crushing to the floor.

He nervously glanced upwards, and screamed in desperations as the church that was sworn to grant him protection was the very thing that was threatening to kill him, to crush his bones.

Jumping to his feet, he ran towards the swaying Oak doors that were trying to hold the collapsing concrete. He grasped the wooden handle and pushed with all his strength, splintering the wood, and only making a big enough gap for his small frame to squeeze through. He fell to the ground relieved at having escaped the collapsing so-called safe hold.

A shadow blocked the warmth of the sun that beat upon his back, and this made him realize death from the collapsed building would have been far more pleasant.

“The way it should be” a voice he did not want to hear, quoted. “The Chosen One, on his knees, towards the Dark lord!”

“No you misunderstand! I’m not the …” he began to explain to Dread the mistake everyone kept making.

But the dark lord ignored his protests.

A scream made his glance position from the ground, towards the large crowd of frightened villagers.

It was his mother.

“Sam no!” She broke into sobs in union with her cowering child.

From then on, all he remembered was having his feet tied together and being tied behind a horse.
He remembered his frantic mother being slapped as she was fought to the ground, and her attempts to rescue him were hopeless. The frightened, drowsy child, tried to fight the growing urge to close his eyes and end the pain of being dragged for miles on end.

But slowly he became unconscious and gave up hope for he was sure he was going to die.



Chapter Five:

The Great Battle

“Are you awake? Still unconscious? Been as still as a log all night”

Sam jolted his eyes open in terror as he recalled yesterdays events.

“Ah, you are awake, I was beginning to fear that you were not going to awaken. I have many questions to ask you, like why would a child be in Dreads prison? He normally kills his enemies, he only puts them behind these cursed walls if he wants to watch them suffer”.

Sam cowered in the corner staring quietly at the talking man to afraid to answer any questions.

“Hmmm, to scared to talk ay? I’m not going to hurt you? I think Dread would like that department”.

He began to laugh and Sam began to wonder weather the prisoner was raving mad. Staring at his forlorn face he stopped laughing. “I apologize for that, it’s been a while since I’ve had company. I guess I’m not much of a pleaser am I. Let me start again and introduce myself. My name is Robert. And what would be your name ay?”

Sam looked at the ground and muttered, “I’m not sure who I am”.

The man smiled a confused smile. “Not know who you are?” he laughed. “Everyone knows who they are. Come on explain to me. What do you mean?”

Sam looked up at the withered face of the ageing man and said “I once was a normal boy, then some being appeared out of no where, whom I believed was only a myth, told me I’m some Chosen One destined to bring the most powerful Lord in the world to his knees and I end up in a prison talking to a raving lunatic,” he smiled; “No offence or anything”.

The old man laughed. “None taken lad. But I must say this is an honour, meeting the chosen once before I’m to die. I am pleased. So may I ask the Chosen Ones name?”

Sam tired of arguing told him his name. “My name is Sam. But why is an old man like you believing in the Dragon Fang Legend?” Sam asked. “I mean everyone knows it’s just a story made up so we have hope that Dread will be killed”.

Robert looked at him and replied, “So the Chosen One is having trouble believing the legend ay? I used to be like that. But someone I cared about gave their life for the legend, and if they were willing to do that, the legends must be true. Sam gazed at the old man confused. Let me tell you a story, it might help kindle your belief in the legend. It’s about a knight and a war that was waged many years ago against the Dark Lord Dread.

Sam’s eyes opened with interest. He had heard of this war that the strange man before him was going to talk about. He had read about it during his studies. Closing his eyes, he listened with interest, as Robert’s dry voice spoke about a legend and a man’s love for his queen.

“We shall win! Dread will feel the wrath of our country against him! He will know that when a country is united, they can do anything!” The speaker paused for a dramatic effect before continuing. “Tonight Dread will be crushed into the ground beneath our victorious feet!”

The crowd cheered. They began to chant out the speakers name for they smelt victory.

Queen Julia looked at them trying to keep a smile on her face. She lifted her hands and slowly edged backwards through her castle.

The cheering continued, and the praise of their beloved queen was clearly heard.

She began to close the blinds, when a high-pitched voice quickly spoke.

“Your majesty, I shall close the blinds”.

She smiled and signalled for him to be seated. “Leon,” she said with gratitude. “Do not be ridiculous you have done enough for me already”.

Leon sat unhappily in a chair upset that his queen did not want his help.

Julia walked to the windows and closed them, blocking out the cheering.

Leon noticing his queen’s unhappiness asked, “my queen, should you not be happy? Tonight we lead the attack against Dread. He shall not have enough power to destroy our army. We have a guaranteed victory awaiting”.

The queen looked at him, tears evident in her eyes. “Leon, my dear Leon. Have you heard of the Dragon Fang Legend?” Leon looked at her curiously.

“Of course I have my queen. My father used to speak of it quite regularly. He was a firm believer. Myself, I have my doubts”.

The queen looked away. “Yes Leon, we all have our doubts”.

She stood to her feet. “I wish to be alone now, I need time to think”.

Leon nodded, obeying his queen’s orders and left her room.

She walked slowly to her cabinet and reached for a clean piece of paper. She read it many times before calling for her most respected knight. “Robert! Please come to me now!” Footsteps were and heard and a worried voice followed.

“My queen, are you alright”. He opened the door and looked at her anxiously.

She smiled at him and issued an order. “Robert, prepare the horseman. We shall ride into battle and attack Dread at once!”

Robert looked at her still worried. “My Queen, you are coming with us? We cannot risk your life”.

Queen Julia looked at him sadly. “I must ride Robert, Dread’s defeat rests with me”.

Robert looked at the ground confused, not knowing what his queen meant. “Alright my queen. We shall ride at once. I shall prepare the horses”.

He left without saying another word.

Queen Julia again looked at the parchment she held and clenching it tightly followed the confused and worried knight. “The prophecy must be completed,” she whispered, already knowing the outcome of the battle.

Screams were heard. Fire from the burning battlefield caused the tired knight to close his eyes.

“The battle is nearly over,” a voice said to him.

He opened his eyes and stared at the frail figure that was determined to stand strong.

“My queen,” he said, his voice shivering from pain. “Dread’s victory is inevitable, we will not survive the night”. He wiped away the tears that were forming in his eyes. “But we can escape. I can get you to safety and you can live to one day see Dread’s defeat!”

Queen Julia looked at him smiling. “I wish it was that easy,” she said quietly. Silence followed with only screams being heard when Julia turned to Robert and asked him a question. “Robert? Have you heard of the Dragon Fang Legend?”

Robert looked at his queen in confusion before saying “Yes my queen, that name is familiar”.

She smiled and handed him a piece of paper. As his eyes scanned the parchment she quoted silently the wording as if she had read it many times. He looked up at his queen’s face in horror.

“You see my faithful knight,” she said bravely. “That is the reason I must ride in this Great Battle”.

Robert began to sob as he clutched on to his beloved queen’s hand. “Please no!” he cried over and over.

She wiped the tears from his mud filled eyes and drew her Sword. “For the Legend!” she yelled. Robert too stood to his feet.

“For the legend,” he repeated.

Sam after hearing the tragic story had crawled out from the corner and was seated wide-eyed, clenching his fists till they were white. “What happened then?” he asked, his eagerness clearly showing.

Robert looked at the ground, a tear showing in the upper corner of his eye. “The battle was lost, Queen Julia was dead and the knight that had sworn to protect her had failed, he was thrown in prison.

Sam gasped, “So that knight is you?”

Robert nodded slowly. “I am Sir Robert, sworn knight and protector of her Majesty Queen Julia. I am not worthy of that title any more. I failed”. More tears formed in his eyes and he wiped them away leaving dirty marks around his eyes, due to his grimy hands. “Before Queen Julia’s death, she handed me this piece of paper” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dirty parchment of paper and handed it to the curious boy.

Sam read it eagerly.

'Before the Legacy of the Chosen One unfolds, a great battle will be fought. Many lives will be destroyed, including that of royal blood; it too must touch the ground if the Dark Lord is to see defeat'.

He read the writing twice, and silently gasped. “The Great War was only fought, so the legend can be completed?”

Sir Robert nodded quietly. “Queen Julia believed her blood must be spilt so the legend can come true. I tried to convince her otherwise, but she ignored my concerns. I did not see her during the final day of the battle and I suspect she is …” he paused trying to fight the last word out of his mouth. “I suspect she is dead”.

Sam attempted to hand the grimy piece of paper back to the defeated knight, but Sir Robert held his hand up signalling no. “You keep it” he said quietly. “I don’t want to even look at that legend. It killed my queen. If you truly are the Chosen One, as you say you are, the prophecies must be false. I suspect Dread would like to finish you off to make sure the legend is void. Most executions happen at sunrise, I suspect that is when you will be killed.” Sir Robert finished his daunting statement and turned his back on the panic stricken Sam. “The Chosen One will be killed” he muttered to himself. “I’m sorry my queen. I’m so sorry” he burst into sobs and all Sam could do was stare at the two pieces of paper he now held.

He crawled back into his corner and he too began to sob. He was to die tomorrow making Queen Julia’s death in vein and even worse making Dread victorious. He closed his eyes, and fell into tormenting dreams of the pain he would face tomorrow and Dreads stunning victory.



Chapter Six:

Execution

Sam awoke on a cold stone floor to the sound of squeaking, as a rusty prison door was swung open. A smallish guard entered the prison and Sam let out a tired giggle at the appearance of Dreads so called ‘feared’ guards. The Guard turned to face the staring Chosen One, and his giggles were instantly choked. He had a face like the devil.

The guard sneered in Sam’s direction and spat to the ground in disgust. “Don’t look like much of a Chosen One, do ya kid?” Now get to ya feet!”

Sam obeyed in an instant. The fear that illuminated from the henchmen made an execution look desirable.

He began to slowly follow the guard outside of the prison, when he stopped for a brief moment and sadly stared at the defeated knight who pretended to sleep. Turning around with his head bowed to the ground, he left expecting the worst. Robert opened his eyes, and looked at the departing child.

“Now all hope is lost my beloved queen, the Chosen One is dead …” he fell to the ground beating his head on the wall and sobbing pitiful. The defeated knight had now completely lost his last thread of hope and possible already diminishing sanity.

Sam walked out of the prison to the sound of a giant crowd cheering. Not in praise, but anger. Thousands of creatures and humans alike had gathered to see the ‘almighty’ Chosen One executed. Above the screaming beings stood Dread, his arm spread mockingly at the defeated child.

“Men, Ladies and minions! I present to you the Chosen One!” Dread laughed gleefully, determined he had beaten the prophecy of defeat. The crowd parted making an aisle for which Sam was to walk between.

The Creatures spat upon him, and tore at his hair; his crushed childlike spirit that had been granted to him for being young was gone, and he wanted to die. The noise from the crowd stopped in an instant and this made the boy cease in his tracks. The crowds seemed to be waiting for something and this thought made Sam’s scared eyes fall behind him.

A menacing man slowly followed the boy, with a whip clutched in his hand. It had nine leather straps attached to a handle, with barbs attached to the end of the straps. The barbs were designed to tear flesh. His glance fell to the ground and slowly realized death would be a treat. The Dark Lord had to torture his would-be-slayer first.

A foot came in contact behind his knee making him topple to the ground. The man laughed and swung the barbed whip at his back, tearing his thin shirt with one hit from the whip. Every swing made the crowd cheer, and every swing made Sam cry in pain. The barbs from the whip tore at flesh, and in seconds revealed bone. The whipping continued for what seemed like a lifetime, only ceasing for brief moments for the executioner to rest his tired arms.

“The Chosen One is defenceless to stop us. The legends are falling apart. They did not expect the Chosen Ones death!”

The torture continued, and Dread's menacing laugh, could be heard in between each backlash.

"Stop!" The whipping ceased.

Sam groaned in weak pleasure, and rolled free of his captors grasp, falling to the ground.

"The 'almighty' Chosen One is dieing. Let us hang him, ending his pitiful life and proving to the God's their legends are nothing but night-time stories!" He laughed, and the crowed joined in, their eyes glazed in pleasure at Sam's screwed up face.

He was dragged to a wooden device, his blurry eyes looking at the device in appreciation. At least this thing will save me from the pain he thought. He was roughly shoved up the stairs and a rough piece of rope was tied around his neck.

The crowd began to chant ‘kill’, but that was unimportant and barely heard to his ears. The people surrounding him looked like shadows due to his lack of blood, but strangely feeling that rope around his neck was a relief for it would bring death and cease the pain he had already endured.

Sam fidgeted nervously, wondering when the order would be issued for the rope to tighten. But alas the order and the crowds excited panting were unheard. He wanted to scream at Dread, and order him to stop toying with his life and do that deed.

But for some reason a presence made that decision impossible. A voice suddenly spoke; but it was different, not chanting ‘kill’ or ‘destroy’. It was not laughing at the enjoyment of pain, it was telling Sam to run.

“Sam, you must run, my power will not hold”. Sam thought quietly to himself,

‘who is that voice that is disturbing me? I just want to sleep.

The voice was beginning to fade. “Sam you must fight the pain, the legend rests in your hands”

‘That voice it sounds familiar …’

The voice was only a whimper. “Sam … please run …”

‘White Shaman!’ Sam opened his eyes in an instant! Ignoring the searing pain, he looked to the ground and saw a pale white creature flickering; her power was nearly drained.

She whispered to him ever so quietly “run” and he reluctantly followed her order.

He ran and ran, each step made the pain in his back burn, but he ignored it. He ran till he could hear no more chanting, until he couldn’t feel the evil aura that illuminated from Dread. Finally he reached a grassy ditch and collapsed, meeting the sleep he had longed for. But even in his dreams he was tormented with pain and images of Dread cursing him and vowing the Chosen Ones death.




Chapter Seven:

The Escape

“How can the legends be false? Our hope rested with the coming of these prophecies! Queen Julia’s death was in vein … our people were led to the slaughter due to a superstition?” he once again began to sob pitiful.

Footsteps were soon heard and this made the crying wreck of a knight scurry into the dungeon corner.

The dungeon door squeaked open and a pale flickering being was thrown roughly to the floor.

A chubby guard laughed gleefully as he kicked the dieing creature, “Don’t believe it’s real, me daughter always a Shaman. Maybe Dread will let me keep it as a pet!” He walked out of the dungeon laughing at his humourless joke.

Robert stared wide-eyed at the pale figure, tears still dripping down his face. “It’s impossible,” he muttered. “Shaman’s are a myth!

The Shaman twitched making Sir Robert jump. She looked slowly up at him and smiled. Painfully she forced the words out “I should be the one saying impossible, the legendary Sir Robert still lives?”

Robert looked to the ground and muttered, “I don’t deserve the words Legendary, let alone the title Sir. I failed in protecting the queen”. The Shaman smiled up at him and rebutted his last comment

“The legends state that royal blood must be spilt, Queen Julia knew if she did not die the prophecies will not come to pass”.

Robert stared at the Shaman; angry that so many believed the cult ... the cult that took his queen. "I’m sorry to disappoint you Shaman but the Chosen One has been executed”.

The Shaman again smiled. “What little faith you have knight, the Chosen One still breathes, he still talks and right now he walks towards his goal”.

Sir Robert looked up shocked “He escaped?” Robert asked, doubt still evident in his voice.

The Shaman nodded and stood forcefully to her feet. Robert ran to her aide, forgetting that she was considered all-powerful.

“Sir Robert, my power is regenerating as we speak”. She then closed her eyes focusing her awesome power at the thick walls of Dread’s prison. A bright light surrounded them both, and Robert fell to his knees trembling. The power made him spasm and as the walls surrounding them slowly crumbled, Robert’s spasms began to cease.

He slowly got to his feet, panting, his eyes twitching at having witnessed such awesome power. Fresh wind greeted his face and this made him cry in shock. He fell to the ground kissing the grass he had long fully missed.

The Shaman let him appreciate the fresh air and the joy of being free for a minute before slowly walking in the direction of the Dragon Temple.

Robert noting this got reluctantly to his feet and followed. Even though he was in the footsteps of a powerful being that has legends stated she helped shape the world; he felt an immense fear. He felt like someone was watching them. He hoped he was just being paranoid.

But his paranoia was correct. A creature with power similar to the Shamans watched them. It wanted blood. It wanted revenge.



Chapter Seven:

Protection

Sam eyes bolted open as he jumped to a defensive stance as yesterday’s events were quickly recalled. His body was bruised, and his back was covered in dry blood. Sam had never felt this alone before, he always felt like someone was watching him, that there was a greater power. He suspected that were the Shamans doing, and now the Shaman was dead. “I’ll avenge your death” he muttered under his breath. One thing was only on the young boy’s mind, and that was to see Dread beg for mercy, to see Dread fall victim at his hands. Anger rushed through his small body and this was the day Sam vowed to find the Dragon Sword.

A sharp tip suddenly touched his neck and sliced through his thoughts. “What have we here? Speak boy, before I separate your head from your body”. Sam spoke quickly.

“Please don’t sir! They say it is possible to live for three seconds with your head unattached. But I’d much rather live longer then that!"

“You have a sense of humour, something Dread’s minions do not have”. He lowered his blade. “My name is Albert, sworn enemy to Dread the Dark Lord and what may your name be?”

Sam’s heart still beat loudly, from the shock of nearly being separated, so his words sounded choked. “My name is Sam”.

“What is a young boy doing in this part of the world, it is dangerous as Dread’s wretched minions lurk in these parts.”

Sam decided not to tell him the truth; he still did not trust the knightly figure. “I am lost,” he replied. “My mother and me were separated while picking berries”.

The man looked at Sam unbelieving before continuing speaking. “Alright then,” he said. “You may come home with me while we search for your mother”.

Sam nodded eagerly; at least he would be safe, for now. Keeping up to the fast pace of the man was difficult, for his strides easily met three to one of Sam’s small steps. Just as they were walking, Sam heard a rustle in the bushes and they both abruptly stopped.

“Show yourself!” Albert yelled, his Sword outright in front of him. A creature emerged, its eyes were blood red, and it delivered an inhuman speech. “Dread the Dark Lord and ruler of mankind, orders you to hand over the Chosen One!”

Albert looked at Sam, disapproving of being fooled "So Dread wants the Child. The Chosen One, he has feared for so long. "Well he ought to, the legends do state, Dread will be killed at the hands of a child!"

The demon hissed, as the cocky knight made fun of its master.

"Hissing are we? Annoyed that your master is sending out Demons to kill a child? He laughed.

Sam gazed at Albert's eyes, and he noted behind the cockiness, a fiery hatred burned inside him.

"Anyway, enough small talk," Albert, said coolly. "Let me kill you, so we can continue on our way".

The demon hissed, and using unmatched speed, it charged, taking both warriors of guard. Its speed was unsurpassed and Sam's faith in Albert's abilities was dramatically diminished. The creature’s huge red wings made it pick up speed again knocking Albert to the ground.

He rolled to the side slashing wildly, hoping his swings would hit flesh; but it was to fast.

It charged again and again making Albert tire and all Sam could do was watch in desperation.

Finally when one swing met contact, his Sword shattered into a million pieces, for the creature’s body up to its neck was covered in iron like scales.

Albert fell to the ground defeated and Sam was sure they were about to die.

“Albert!” the creature bellowed. “You fight well,” it mocked. “But you are defeated and I shall claim my prize”.

Sam looked horrified as the creature lurched forward, mouth open and ready to destroy the Chosen One. He closed his eyes begging for a miracle. Only when he heard a strong voice did his hopes regenerate.

"Dread should not underestimate his enemies. When you see him in Hell, send him my greetings”. the voice said mockingly as the beast let out an agonized scream.

Sam opened his eyes quickly and saw to his amazement an arrow sticking out of the beast’s neck. “It fell to the ground swearing and cursing Albert’s name. Sam also fell to the ground, but out of shock, grateful for the privilege of still being allowed to breath.

“The Chosen One, ay? I do not appreciate of being lied to".

Sam looked to the ground, slightly nervous.

"Now let us continue, we have a long journey ahead".

He looked up shocked. "You mean you are accompanying me?"

"Of course. Lets just say, Dread and I have unfinished business".

Sam would have continued his curious question asking, but once again looking into Albert's eyes, he noticed a burning passion of hate. Even though Albert had good intentions, Sam felt nervous around his new companion.

"Before we continue, Chosen One, we shall continue to my shack, where I will train you briefly in the art of sword wielding".

“Sir it would be a privilege, but I have much to do”.

Albert glared into his eyes for a brief moment, before quoting, “Chosen One, it would be better to delay the search for the Dragon Sword and obtain it in the end, then to rush your find and never obtain it at all”.

Sam nodded slowly, hungry to continue his travels, but he dared not argue. The feeling of nervousness, and his untrusting nature was still heavily scented in the air. "Let the training begin," he said quietly.


Chapter Nine:

The Legend unfolds

“Shaman?” Sir Robert asked. “How do we intend to find the Chosen One?”

“The legends speak for themselves,” she replied. “He will be on his way to the Dragon Sword, we must meet with him and help him obtain the legendary blade”.

Robert nodded and kept walking. “Where is the mighty blade kept?” he asked after a while.

“The Dragon Sword lies in the Grand Temple of the Dragon. They say it is protected by magic, and only a few worthy of wielding such a mighty weapon may enter”.

“Then how far is it before we get there” he asked.

The Shaman smiled at him and said sternly, “You ask to many questions Sir Robert. Have faith, we will get there.”

They both walked in silence, and Robert began to fear the Shaman’s earlier words. She quoted, only those worthy of wielding the mighty weapon may enter. He was a defeated knight; surely he thought to himself, The Dragon Sword would know this.


“Sam, a wise scholar once quoted, the key to a successful knight, lies not in the blade, but in the wielder.” Sam nodded and replied, “ Meaning it’s not how deadly the Sword, it’s how you use it?”

Albert nodded and handed Sam a wooden Sword. “Sam stared at the harmless Sword in disappointment, he had his heart set on wielding a steel blade”.

Albert noted Sam’s disapproval of the weapon and said, “a weapon does not have to have a sharp blade and a patterned handle, and it can be anything, even a wooden Sword. For now I want you to practice with this”. He showed Sam how to hold the Sword, and techniques in using it. “Practice the things I have shown you, I must go and prepare something to eat, you must be hungry after your travels”.

Sam nodded his thanks and turned to his blade. After swinging the patterns he was shown he began to bore of the exercises. Looking around to see if Albert was in sight, and realizing he had gone into the bush to collect something, he decided to explore Albert’s cabin. He might find something more worthwhile then a boring piece of pinewood shaped to resemble a sword.

To his disappointment, the cabin was nearly empty, apart from a stool, an old bed covered with a tattered sheet, and a desk lined with paper. A thud made him jump.

"Are you always this nosy Chosen One? If you weren't so important I would have treated you as a normal trespasser and used you as target practise".

Sam gulped, and quietly muttered sorry.

"Now return to your training. Your encounter with Dread will come sooner then expected". He turned his back on the child, and Sam quietly skulked outside ready to resume his training.

However his training was unfocused as Alberts previous comment echoed in the back of his mind.

"Your encounter with Dread will come soon then expected".

Chapter Ten:

The Dragon Temple

Sir Robert and the Shaman took a deep breath and gazed in awe at the giant Temple that loomed before them. Two Dragons with their wings outstretched looked as if they guarded the Temple and would destroy any intruder that invaded its territory.

They both slowly walked up the huge stone steps as the Shaman spoke in a soft voice, even she the almighty White Shaman could sense an awesome power iluminating from the Temple.

“It is said that the two Dragons symbolize power and guardianship; only the purest of hearts may enter the Temple, if evil is sensed they will come to life and unleashing their awesome power will destroy anyone who threatens the Dragon Sword”.

Sir Robert laughed. “Of course these superstitions do not exist, merely legends to make the world seem more exciting”.

The Shaman rested her pale hand on the cold stone Dragon and muttered “All legends have some fact in them Robert”.

Robert’s smile ceased and he continued to ascend the steps.

The Shaman followed gently whispering a prayer to the sleeping Dragons, “The Chosen One is coming,” she whispered. “You will be awakened soon”. She entered the Temple and once again the Dragons were left alone with the now appeared stars shimmering off them.


A Dragon stood before Sam; it’s red eyes calling him, begging for him to awaken them. It’s voice sounded like a soft growl as it gently said “Sam, the Dragon Sword is calling you; take it from its pillar of stone, unleash its awesome power upon the evil of the world”.

He walked towards the Dragon, his hands outstretched wanting to touch the flaming beast, but just as his hands were about to meet contact the Dragon collapsed in a burnt heap on the floor. It was dieing; its power was fading. “Sam. The Dragon Sword needs you now … evil walks towards us … the Sword is in trouble!”

Sam’s eyes jolted open, sweat covered his body, and his blankets were stuck to him. He jumped to his feet and bolted to the door. He started to turn the doorknob but quickly looked to the desk scattered with paper. He ran to the desk, grabbed a map, and then quickly ran into the forest, ready to begin his destiny.


The room smelt dusty and a strange aura surrounded the two travelers.

Doubts that had previously clouded Roberts mind were gone. He felt like he was allowed to enter the Temple, that the Dragon had granted him permission.

Shivers ran up his spine and glancing to the side he was sure even the mighty Shaman felt intimidated.

“We must find the Sword, though we will not have the power to free it from the pillar, we must wait for the Chosen One as the legend’s state only the child may release it”.

Robert nodded and said “Where is Sam, shouldn't he be here?”

The Shaman nodded grimly. “Something is keeping him, something grave”.


Sam ran through the forest one hand clenched around the map, the other gripping a wooden Sword.

All he could think of was the dream, what did it mean? How can the legendary Sword be dieing? It didn’t make sense, Sam wanted answers and he felt within his heart the answers laid at the Dragon Temple.

He ran, his hand turning white from gripping the wooden Sword. He wanted to let go, release the pressure from his hand, but the only protection he held was that little wooden Sword. He ran, head down so the jungle vines swaying from the overhanging trees wouldn’t flick him in the face.
Just as he was about to glance again at his map to make sure he was going in the right direction to the Dragon Temple, he hit something hard. It flung him with great force to his knees.

“Well, well, well, I didn’t think it would be this easy to find the Chosen One” The voice began to laugh and Sam knew without even looking up that the owner of the voice was the feared Dark Lord Dread.


“It has to be here somewhere. I can feel it the power is amazing”.

The Shaman’s pale figure seemed to have intensified in to an almighty glow. The holy power from the Sword seemed to give her strength; it even made Sir Robert feel confident in his abilities. They searched for what seemed like hours when finally Robert let out an excited yelp for a few meters away was a shimmering great Sword stuck upright in a stone pillar.

Its blade had a Dragon pattern on it and it glowed a pale blue. It shimmered with a power he had never imagined.

The Shaman walked behind Robert and dropped slowly to her knees. “The Sword deserves your respect,” she said quietly.

Robert noted this, did the same and they both began to pray that the Dragon Sword would lead Sam safely to the Temple.


“I have waited so long for this moment; to destroy you Sam,” Dread said while laughing. “Today is the day you will die, today is the day that the legend becomes void!” He began to laugh and Sam began to panic.

Thoughts flooded his mind; if only I had a weapon, I could attack the laughing maniac. But alas they were thoughts, wishful thinking; closing his eyes, he awaited the worst. As he had nearly given up hope, some words that had been spoken a while ago came back to his memory. “A weapon does not have to have a sharp blade and a patterned handle, it can be anything, even a wooden Sword”. His eyes jolted open and a passion so fierce burned inside him.

Dread’s laughter ceased and a pain filled through his lower leg.

Sam had swung the small, splintered wooden Sword with all his strength at the enemy. Knowing he had caused the Dark Lord enough pain to distract him, he ran with an anger filled Dread in hot pursuit.


Robert stood to his feet; looking at the Shaman he realized she was in a deep meditation and could not be disturbed. Feeling a rising worry for Sam, he decided to look for the boy, as he hated doing nothing. Taking one last look at the peace filled Shaman he left to find the entrance to where they had started. Just as he was turning a corner, Robert heard a scream from a terrified boy, which made him run in a frantic bolt. “Sam!” he yelled. “Where are you?”

Ahead of him was Sam, sweat pouring down his face. Sam stopped when he saw Robert, his fear overtaken by confusion. “How did you …”? He paused before finishing his sentence and remembering why he was terrified decided it was wiser to delay his questions. “Dread!” Sam screamed. “His right behind me!”

Dread screamed in anger. “I should have finished him off when I had the chance”. He screamed again and remembering which direction Sam had run followed, cursing under his breath. In the distance loomed a giant Temple that took his breath away. Noticing two giant, concrete Dragons, his pace quickened ignoring the intimidation the figures gave him. When Dread had nearly ascended the giant stone steps, a voice made him pause.

“The one who is ascending in to the Great Dragon Temple; leave now, your heart is filled with evil”.

His movement ceased. The Dark Angel slowly turned his gaze back towards a small stone statue that was perched near the entrance to the Temple.

“I said evil one, leave now, or face imminent death”.

Dread formed a smile on his lips, and quoted sarcastically to the small Dragon, “I’ll face imminent death”.

The sky turned a pale gray, and the great Dragon statue that had remained motionless for centuries began to crumble.

Dread’s once confident behavior began to weaken and slowly he descended the steps, backing away from the awakening Dragon.

Within seconds the statue begun to be more lifelike, and this filled the Dark Lord with even greater terror as the legends became clear.

“The Dragons side by side with the Chosen One, will destroy the Dark Lord and bring peace to man kind; impossible”. Dread mumbled, fear becoming evident in his voice. “Their myths. Superstitions”. His footing slipped and he tumbled down the concrete steps, landing in a defeated mess at the bottom. His eyes lifted to gaze at the small Dragon that was shaking the remaining pebbles away from its body.

The Dragon’s eyes met the Dark Lords, and it smiled confidently. It too quoted the legend. “The Dragons side by side with the Chosen One, will destroy the Dark Lord and bring peace to man kind”. Then it pounced.

Chapter Ten

True power unleashed

The impact was amazing; it was unbelievable that a small-framed dragon could cause that much pain.

Dread scrambled to his feet in a panic, but tripping over his black cloak he face planted the ground, letting out a scream, more in frustration then in pain.

The Dragon laughed at Dread’s antics. “Isn’t this fun Dread?” it whispered, enjoying the sound of his panicked gasps. “But don’t worry friend, I usually play with my food ... before I kill it”.

It pounced again, missing the Dark Lord by mere millimeters, as he managed weakly to stagger side wards.

Dread yelled a curse in the Dragons direction, and a loud explosion echoed the battlefield, tearing at the Temples foundation.

“Causing explosions?” The Dragon mocked. “My food’s quite the talented one!” Outstretching its massive claws it pounced again.

Dread bellowed in pain, as they impacted, digging into his gut, twisting and ripping his innards. The Dragon laughed eccentrically, as its claws dug further, slightly twisting, causing greater pain.

Their eyes met contact for a brief moment, and Dread mustering all his remaining strength whispered into the Dragons ear “How does it feel within five minutes you will be dead?”

The smile wiped from its face. “You’re bluffing,” it whispered back, digging its claws as far as they could reach.

Dread cried out and grinding his teeth, he grabbed the Dragon and twisted side wards.

The Dragon screamed, as it claws snapped, leaving them imbedded inside the Dark Lord.

Dread smiled weakly, raising his hands to the sky, he whispered ‘four minutes Dragon’.

The Dragon charged at his mocking competitor, contacting the Dark Lord and throwing him to the ground.

The Dragon was filled with confidence as he witnessed that Dread was no God, he was a mortal and just like a mortal he felt pain, and bled their red blood; a plain, weak mortal. Dread painstakingly clambered to his feet, raising his hands to the sky once more, and muttered, ‘Three Minutes!’ This snapped the Dragon out of its mezmorization. And fear ebbed into its body once more. It charged again, propelling its tail and slashing at the motionless being. He screamed, as tiny droplets of blood fell to the ground. Forcing the urge to lower his hands and wipe the blood away from his injured face, Dread stood his ground. “What are you?” The Dragon muttered; its eccentric nature purged from its body.

Dread smiled, ignoring the blood that was causing so much pain, and decorating the ground beneath him a bright red. It stretched its wings outright, and landed near the groaning Dark Lord. It slowly arched its back, and as if it was dry reaching, it breathed a thick turret of fire, engulfing the mocking being.

The flaming monstrosity suppressed the urge to cry out and a strong aroma of burning flesh wafted past the Dragons nose; instead he screamed out ‘your final minute Dragon!’

The Dragon stared in horror at the determination and the pain he had undertaken. Flesh melted off the Dark Lords face, and the revolting sight snapped the small Dragon out of his memorization and back into reality.

Turning its back, it fled.

“Times up Dragon,” a voice screamed in the distance, making it sweep one final look at the burning heap, as a black meteor collided ending the small framed guardians life.

Its carcass fell, causing a small crater in the earth below.

Dread fell to his knees panting, agony shooting though his mutilated body. But still he managed to force a smile. “The prophecies were wrong. I did it, I beat the guardian that was meant to kill me” he coughed, and a splatter of blood hit the ground. Crawling on his hands and knees, Dread began to ascend the stone steps. Even though every movement that he made was excruciating, nothing could stop him. The Chosen one was going to die.


The Shaman’s eyes shot open as she gasped trying to breathe in fresh air. “He is coming,” she whispered. “His power is amazing”. The Shaman stood shakily to her feet, as she felt three awesome energies circulating outside the temple. One was weak, it felt like it was dieing. One was incredible, it felt like it was awakening, every second getting stronger. And the final energy was unknown, it was awesome, somehow familiar, and above all – it was evil.


Sam and Robert huddled in the corner of the giant temple. They could sence a disturbance outside and could hear screams, horrible screams.

Sam shut his eyes tight, praying for a miracle. And sure enough, a few minutes later, there was silence. He opened his eyes and took in the surroundings, hoping that the Gods were kind, that this was not a trick. “Is it over?” Sam asked, holding his breath.

“I … I don’t know”. Robert replied. Robert stood to his feet, and slowly began to edge towards the opening of the temple, when a fear struck him, and a loud voice made him dive to the ground shaking.


Dread continued to ascend the steps, inch by inch, fueled by the ambition of destroying the Chosen One, and having no more troubled thoughts of defeat. He paused, as a small pebble hit him on the head. Dread turned slowly to face the larger stone dragon and grimaced as a voice spoke, and pebbles began to shower him as the second stone guardian awoke.

“Dread, Dark Lord! I commend your awesome power; but alas you are a fool. For I Xerox am the True guardian of this Temple!”

Dread cried in defeat, giving up any hope of survival. The power from this great beast was amazing, and it made the Dark Lord spasm.

“Xerox”, he choked out as he forced himself to his feet, trying to look the least bit intimidating. “I give you five minutes, before my power is strong enough to kill you, like your pitiful friend”. Dread raised his hands to the sky.

The Great beast laughed, and Dread’s already diminished confidence was crushed furthermore. “I also commend your determination,” Xerox said. “Do not the waste your final minutes with your hands raised, looking like a jester. Lower them”.

Dread slowly lowered his hands, having no option, but to obey the beast.

“You thought the prophecies were wrong? The guardians are meant to weaken you, leaving the Chosen One and the almighty sword, to end your life”. The Beast sneered at Dreads forlorn face. “Oh, do not be upset Dread, you apart of history”.

“It’s not over!” Dread screamed through clenched teeth.

“Oh but it is, Dark Lord. You are defeated. You have no power left to even attempt a worthy fight; admit it Dark Lord, your reign is over!”


Dread grinded his teeth and screamed a curse in the Beasts direction. Nothing happened.

The Beast let out a loose laugh, as he mocked Dread’s pitiful attempt. “Pathetic Dark Lord”. It smiled in an exaggerated fashion as if an idea had struck him. “I will give you five minutes Dark Lord”. The Beast closed his eyes.

Dread in a blind rage, attempted to back down the steps, but tripping over, he fell, resting in a crumpled heap at the bottom.

The Beast smiled, its eyes were still closed. “Is all this noise that I am hearing some magical spell … or a panicked wizard falling down stairs? You have four minutes”.

Dread raised his hands and small dark objects from the ground flew at the Beast.

The Beast just smiled at they harmlessly disintegrated upon contact. “Three minutes. What was that thing you just did to me? It felt relaxing. I asked you to attempt to kill me, not give me a massage”.

Sweat from Dread’s forehead stung his eyes, and eyes half closed, he performed a spell, calling upon creatures from the underworld. Red wolf like creatures pounced at the humming Beast, but wolf after wolf, each released a yelp as their souls faded to the underworld once more.

“Dark Lord, using little puppies to try and kill a God? I thought that was low even for you! Two minutes Dark Lord!”

Dread looked horror stricken at the magnificent mocking monster, and waited patiently for his inevitable demise.


A magical being observed the battle; Dread had defeated the small Dragon with no trouble, but it appeared as if he was going to lose to the Beast. Her eyes glared at the Beast, and she spat at the ground in disgust. “Revenge will be mine Dragon!” she yelled before readying to destroy the winged beast.


“One minute Dark Lord!”

Dread spat the blood from his mouth, angrily grinding his teeth. Another power was suddenly sensed. One that was fresh; it surpassed Dread’s power and rivaled that of the Dragons. “What now?” he muttered angrily. He stared up at the Beasts eyes to perceive if the Beast could sense the presence of the new awesome power.

“Times up Dark Lord, and I'm not even scratched. How pathetic, I expected something more from the one the prophecies warned us against. You’re a joke Dread; a funny joke. The prophecies have come to pass. The final prophecy has unfolded, and it ends with your demise. Heavens, destroy the evil!”

A white meteorite similar to that of Dreads previous spell descended from the sky. The light made Dread cringe, his eyes dilated and his hands raised as a pathetic shield. The Beast laughed, its mouth twisted in a menacing grin. As the meteorite came closer towards the cowering being, the light made Dreads shadow increase in size. The Beasts grin wiped from its face. A second shadow had appeared. It was smaller in size, but the power illuminating from the presence of the new being was great and somehow familiar to Xerox. “Impossible,” he muttered as he raised his head to stare at the new arrival. “You should be dead”.

Chapter Twelve

Defeat!

“Xerox! You should have destroyed me when you had the chance” the creature said, hatred evident in her voice.

Xerox stared not knowing what to say.

The Shaman laughed. “The Almighty guardian is scared?” she mocked.

Xerox’s mouth still gaped open in shock. Finally he managed to utter a few words, “I do not know how you cheated death Shaman, but a second time you will not be so lucky”.

The Shaman laughed causing the Beast to charge in anger.

Dread and the Shaman were taken off guard and roughly flung to the ground.

Dread sobbed pitifully as his power was fading from dueling excessively.

The Shaman grabbed his hand and began to recite a strange language. He did not resist, he instead closed his eyes, and focused.

Xerox laughed at them both and said, “Even with your combined power, your strength does not much mine!” Closing his eyes, a bright beam began to illuminate from his blue scales. He let out a triumphant yell as the power was released.

Dread and the Dark Shaman, still focusing their power, also let out a triumphant yell and released their power.

An almighty explosion followed, creating a huge ditch and sending the three beings hurtling backwards. When the smoke cleared, they stared at each other, hatred bubbling beneath their skin.

Xerox saw the panting Dread, his power was nearly faded and he was open to any attack. Xerox charged but an immense power knocked him to the ground. He turned around, and began to focus his power on the Shaman, but an agonizing pain hit him in the gut.

He reeled in confusion as he saw a dark blade pierced deep into his underbelly.

Dread collapsed to the ground having used the last of his strength.

The Shaman smiled and Xerox recoiled in terror.

She began to mutter a strange language and even with Xerox’s vast knowledge and intelligence; it was alien to him.

“What did you do?” Xerox asked fearfully, trying to ignore the pain the blade from his belly produced.

The Shaman smirked and Xerox let out an agonized scream. He began to glow a deathly white as the Shaman called his soul to the underworld where he would be forever tortured.


The White Shaman ran. The immense power she had felt before had suddenly disappeared. The Temple was calling out for help, it was saying evil was ascending its steps and the child was in danger. Tears filled the White Shaman’s eyes and she prayed for Xerox’s soul that the Gods would grant him mercy. She could hear his tormented scream as he called for help. As the Shaman ran to the entrance, she could feel within her heart that the legend had been changed. A creature had appeared that the prophecy had not foreseen. Since the beginning she knew the legend would unfold; and that Dread would be defeated. But now for the first time she was uncertain. The legends had changed. And a frightening thought nagged at her mind, as she traslated the new prophsies. They predicted the Chosen Ones death.

She turned a corner, and stopped abruptly in her tracks as her worst nightmare was revealed. A young female stood near the entrance of the temple, her eyes shimmering a bright red. She was standing over the Chosen One and his only protection was a withered, defeated knight.

Chapter Twelve

A new rival

The White Shaman groaned as she stumbled and collapsed to the floor. The Dark Shaman turned her glance from the cowering Chosen One to the shocked Shaman. “Hello sister,” she said with a smirk. “Doing more good deeds are we? You haven’t changed one bit, still can’t stand your ground when you’re in the presence of evil”. She kicked the dieing Shaman in the gut making her groan and roll sideways. "I don’ t know why mother favored you, I was always the more talented one”. She kicked the shaman again.

Sam ran to aide her, but he was flung from his feet, without even a glimpse from the Shaman.

“And now you want to help the prophesy of Dreads defeat come true. Oh aren’t you a saintly figure!” she said with hatred. “Well I won’t let it happen sister, Dread will be victorious! I’ve changed the course of the prophecy; I’ve escaped from the imprisonment you put upon me! Weren’t expecting that were you!” She began to laugh while Sam and Robert stared at her in confusion and fear.

She turned to Sam and pointing a palm at him began to mutter a curse. Sam closed his eyes and waited for the pain to begin.

“No!” The White Shaman screamed as she threw herself at her sister.

Robert ran to help her, but the immense power caused when the beings were fighting made him fall to the ground having a fit. The Dark Shaman laughed and mocked her sister

“Getting weak in your old age are we?” The White Shaman screamed a dieing scream. Sam began to cry as he watched the holy figure and beloved ally die.

“No, please no!” he cried.

“Sam …” the Shaman forced out words pointed in his direction. “The Dragon Sword!”

Robert jumped to his feet and ran to help the crying boy. “Sam she is right there is nothing we can do,” he screamed.

Sam slowly got to his feet and with one last look at the flickering figure he followed Sir Robert.

Chapter Thirteen

A Tale of Betrayal

They both ran down the dark hallways as Sam asked questions to feed his hungry curiosity. “Who was that creature?”

Robert shook his head in disbelief and answered. “From what I can gather she is the legendary Dark Shaman; a sister to the White Shaman".

“Well what does she want with us?"

“During my training as a knight, we were expected to study mythical beings. Queen Julia, God bless her soul, believed in myths and said one day we may meet a creature we believed was a fable. If that happened, what will we do? They are too powerful to fight using steel; you have to use the knowledge you have learnt against them. During my studies, I came across a book titled 'The Mythical Shaman,' and in it I read about the war that tore the Shaman homeland apart”.

Sam’s eyes opened with interest. “Go on sir,” he said.

Sir Robert nodded and as they returned to the Dragon Sword, he told Sam a tale about magical beings that were considered a myth, but today they were reality.

"I was a young knight in training. I was ambitious, confident and had dreams of one day becoming the queen’s most loyal knight. I was in the royal library, when I discovered a most interesting book. The story started when a young Shaman gave birth to twins…"

“They’re beautiful,” a young Shaman said as she kissed her newborns on the forehead.

“Yes my child, I can feel an overwhelming presence when they entered the world”.

“Father?” The young Shaman said. “How will I know what their destinies hold? What the heavens expect of them?”

The old man smiled. “No one can be sure what the future holds for them, but for this little one, I feel something special is in store for her”.

His finger touched the pale little Shaman’s head and she began to glow. The old man left the room, while the mother gently caressed her children. She gently whispered to the Pale little Shaman, “Yes, you will be my special little one”.

Some say the other twin became jealous, and that mistake awakened the Dark Shaman.

“You call that power?” the White Shaman laughed as she dodged a small ball of magic her sister had thrown at her. She playfully flicked some magic in her sister’s direction, which was easily rebounded.

“Children!” a mother’s cross voice yelled. “What did I say about using your magic for fun?”

The Light Shaman laughed as she mimiced her mother’s voice. “Don’t use your magic for fun! It’s a gift and the Gods intend for it to be used for the greater good!”

They both burst out laughing and floated gently into the clouds soaring overhead.

The mother smiled at her two playful children. “They’re always going to be friends,” she whispered happily before leaving the playing children.


It was night and a young Shaman was having many dreams.

“Light Shaman, are you tired of your sister being the favored one?” a voice asked. The Shaman denied this fact, and tried to run, but the voice seemed to follow her.

“You deserve better then this, accept your fate release the evil in your heart!”

The Shaman’s eyes jolted open; sweat was stuck to her robes. “I accept my fate,” she whispered.

The light glow, which normally surrounded her, began to glow dark.

“Dark Shaman, come to the caves of Andreas! Your destiny awaits …” the Shaman jumped to her feet and as if in a trance began to walk towards a new life and a greater evil.


“Father I must go!”

The old Shaman smiled understandingly. “I understand child, maybe this is your destiny. Ever since your sister disappeared, the sky has been dark, thunder has echoed around our homeland tearing it apart, but worse still I have had dreams and when I awake it feels as if an evil being is watching me”.

The White Shaman nodded, “I too father have those dreams”.

The old man rested his withered hand on the pale Shamans shoulder. “I believe the answers lie at the Cave of Andreas south of our homeland”.

“Alright father that is where I shall go!”


The Cave of Andreas loomed before the weary traveler. Her eyes opened with awe, and intermediation and fear crept over her body.

She slowly edged into the cave, when a voice made her pause in fear. “Sister!” the harsh voice screamed. “Leave now before I destroy you!”

The White Shaman fell to the ground panting for breath. An evil aura fell, draining her energy.

“Shaman of Light,” she panted. “Please it is I your sister!”

The voice sounded enraged. “The Light Shaman is gone! She was weak, and now I, the Almighty Dark Shaman stands before you!” She came into view and what the White Shaman saw made her gasp. A black Shaman with red glowing eyes bared pointed teeth and an immense power was visible. She pointed a palm in the Shaman direction and the Dark aura surrounding them both intensified.

The White Shaman’s eyes opened in fear and her power faded rapidly.

“Dark Shaman!” an intimidating voice made them both turn. A giant Dragon stood before them, his power was intense. The Dark Shaman glared in fear at her new rival.

“Who speaks to me?” she asked. “The Dragon answered. “My name is Xerox; I command thee to let the White Shaman live. Without her the prophecy is void!”

The Dark Shaman confused voice replied, “I know not what you talk about Dragon, now leave my sister and me alone, we have 'family matters' to attend to”. She turned her back to the Dragon and focused on the cowering Shaman beneath her. The Dragon roared and a power like no other flung the demonic shaman against the wall. She began to flicker, her evil aura weakening.

The White Shaman realizing she had a powerful ally stood to her feet. “Mighty Dragon,” she said out of respect. “I thank you for your help, but I must save my sisters soul”.

The Dragon lowered his head out of sympathy. “Your sister is consumed by evil and she must be destroyed if the legend is to be true”.

“What legend do you talk about mighty Dragon?”

“The Dragon Fang Legend!”

A bright light illuminated the cavern and a small parchment appeared. The Shaman read a small sentence and pocketed the paper within her robes. She nodded at the Dragon and turned her back slowly.

His eyes began to glow red.

The Dark Shaman fell to the ground holding her head crying pitiful.

The White Shaman tried to block out her screams of anguish.

Her sister screamed for mercy and finally the holy Shaman could take it no more. “Stop! Please mighty Dragon you have weakened her enough”. She paused for a moment before continuing. "As she is my sister, i believe I should be the one to release her sould from evil ..."

The Dragon looked at her surprised, nodding his head he left the cave.

“The Dark Shaman looked fearfully at her sister. “She closed her eyes and said with hatred “Destroy me sister!”

The White Shaman looked at her with mercy. “I can not kill my own flesh and blood, but I can not let you leave”. She paused sadly. “This will be the last time we will see each other sister, turning her back she left the cave. “May the doors of the Cave of Andreas close shielding the Evil One within its walls!”

A purple barrier surrounded the cave separating the twins.

The Dark Shaman smiled as her evil glow began to strengthen. "I promise you this sister, I will escape and when I do, that Dragon will be sorry he interfered!"

Her laughter cut through the cave.

Chapter Fifteen

Even fete can change

The sword granted the room a beautiful light. Sam gasped in shock hardly believing that he was the lucky one allocated to free it from its imprisonment. Sam stared at it for a brief moment, not knowing what to do; his job unclear. Robert gently tapped him on the shoulder and whispered, “Sorry to do this Sam, but can we hurry this whole getting to know you thing between you and the piece of metal for later?” “Sure,” Sam replied, aggravated with Robert’s disrespect for this legendary weapon that will bring hope back into his people’s hearts. He slowly edged towards it, hand outstretched and gently grasped the hilt. Soon enough, as if he had a magic touch, the sword, became lose as if it were imbedded in foam rather then a large slab of concrete. He pulled with all his strength, and the sword slowly edged upwards towards freedom.


They wrestled. Pillars collapsed when the two beings were fighting. The White Shaman’s movements slowly became sluggish, and it was clear she was losing. As they fought, she attempted to speak sense into her sister and awaken the lost ‘Shaman of Light’. “Sister, it is I!” A fist hit her in the stomach, making her gasp for air and sending her across the room. “Don’t let the evil win!” she screamed, as her sister was flung backwards from the White Shaman’s incredible power. “Sister, are you alright?” she yelled, as she ran to aide her injured sibling. “What happened?” a weak voice mumbled. “Sister!” The White Shaman ran to her fallen comrade and knelt beside her. “You were consumed by evil and …”. A hand clasped around her neck, and choked her words. “Always were the gullible one. You haven’t changed a bit!” The White Shaman’s hands struggled hopelessly to free her neck from the deathly grasp, but it was impossible. “Looks like evil has one. With you out of the picture, who do you think will stop me? The old man?” She laughed. The White Shaman’s hands slowly became less frantic, and her eyes slowly began to close.

“Sorry to break up this little family rivalry, but where can I find Dread”. The Shaman’s hands softened on its target, as she turned her head slowly to glance at the new arrival. “And who are you?” “Who I am is unimportant. Tell me where Dread is?” The Shaman turned her head to where Dread once stood, and realized he was gone. “He’s gone”. “Gone where!” The Shaman looked slightly annoyed. Her reaction, made the man grasp the hilt of his sword. The White Shaman groaned as she was tossed to the floor like a rag doll. The man smiled and said “Before I kill you, I might as well say who I am, so you can all gather in Hell, and swap insults at my expense. My name is Albert”. The Shaman looked the knightly figure up and down, clenched her fist, and ran straight towards the cocky knight.

“The Chosen One would have the Sword by now. We’re doomed, all because of that stupid Shaman. If she was smart, she would have destroyed him when she had the chance!” Dread muttered angrily as he retreated back to his stronghold. “I can’t confront him now. I need a plan. A way to destroy him, without actually having to face him myself …I can’t use my henchmen against him, he has the Sword and everyone believes to strongly about that myth …” He smiled as a brilliant plan struck him. “If I can’t face him … then I’ll befriend him”. He laughed, as he focused his direction on a small village.

“Are you ready Sam?” Sir Robert asked. “Ready for what?” Sam replied, stroking the beautiful patterned hilt with his finger. “You have the Sword. It is time …” Sam nodded slowly, and taking one last glance at the sword, he retraced his steps, towards the entrance of the temple. Little did he know, the cowardice Dark Lord had long retreated, and was thinking of a devious tactic that would result in the Chosen Ones death.


Alberts blade clashed with the Dark Shamans arm. He looked confidently at her arm, but no wound had appeared. The Shaman smiled, and glaring into his eyes, flung him into a pillar. He gasped for breath, and slowly struggled to his feet. The Shaman smiled at her opponent in admiration, that he had sustained powerful blows, that would normally succumb an average man, but Albert stood ready for more punishment. He outstretched his sword, and beckoned the Shaman to attack. She bared her pointed her teeth, and pounced.


“Hear that?” Robert asked, as he grabbed Sam’s arm. “This way!” Sam yelled, as he ran towards the heated battle. “Albert?” he said quietly in shock, as he saw the Dark Shaman and him locked in combat. “Give me a second boy!” he said cheerily, as he kicked the Shaman backwards, and charged slashing hopelessly at her face. Sam looked to the right of them, and saw the White Shaman sprawled on the floor. “No!” he screamed, as he ran to his friend. Her breathing was short, and using her last remaining strength, she whispered, “Sam Dread has retreated”. Sam stood to his feet. “I’m going to destroy him,” he yelled. She looked at the boy’s confident manner and realized the Sword was making him a warrior. She wanted to tell him the new translation of the prophecy, but realized that would be a mistake. “Go Sam,” she said sadly. His destiny will be fulfilled, she thought, but the legend had changed, and Sam’s destiny is different from what the boy had in mind.



Chapter Sixteen

Mercenary

The village was deserted. The outposts that had been set up for protection against Dread, had spotted him far before he entered the village.

“You wanted to see me?” A voice asked.

Dread smiled and turned to face a small dirty boy. “Word travels fast,” Dread replied.

“Lets just say I have people everywhere. I suspect this isn’t a personal visit, I know you Dread, what do you want?”

“The boy has the sword”.

“So, what’s this to me Dread. I ain’t got no legends prophesising my death”. Dread growled in annoyance, making the boy realize he’d better show some respect to the Dark Lord, no matter how defeated and tired he looked. The boy was shocked, the Dark Lord was looking more human, then he had ever been. “So what do you want me to do?”

“He is a child. I want you to befriend him and kill him when he sleeps. Silent. Simple”.

“I don’t know Dread. I am a mercenary, but I kill people for a price?.

Dread growled, straightening his back, he showed he still had power remaining to cause some serious pain.. “I’ll make it simple. His life. Or yours?”

The boy smiled, “I’ll have him killed in the next couple of days”.


The Shaman and Albert stopped for fighting for a few moments, both trying to catch their breath.

“You fight better then I expected,” she said out of admiration.

“I know,” he replied. “Tell me where Dread is, and I’ll destroy him, not you”.

The Shaman laughed, “You don’t like Dread very much do you? You care about the legend too?”

“I care about no myth or superstition. I do not believe a child has the power to kill him, but I can, without some pretty piece of metal”.

“I would let you go, but I’ve been away for a very long time, and I haven’t had such decent company for a very long time”.She raised her hands to the sky, and up from the ground raised a small army of skeleton warriors.

Albert smiled, as he said “I recognise these people. That’s right, I think I’m the reason, their all a pile of bones!” He charged at the nearest skeleton slashing wildly.


Sam and Robert trudged for what seemed like hours. Sam kept asking questions about Dread and the legend. “Do you think its true?”

“What’s true?”

“The Legend? Is it true?” He asked again.

The both walked in silence for a few minutes before Robert answered “I guess it is. Queen Julia believed …”

“I know Queen Julia believed it, but do you?”

“I guess I do”.

They continued walking in silence when a scream made them pause.

“This way!” Sam yelled, running in the direction of the distressed person.

They ran down a path, till they reached a young boy who was crying for help. “Please, someone!” He sobbed. A feirce look deamon stood next to him, it's mouth open, threatening to consume the dirty looking boy.

Sam charged at the deamon. His sword outstretched. Robert tried to grab the Chosen One, but foolishly he lunged, attempting to strike the Deamon in the chest. The Deamon roared "Argh," it cried before lumbering off into the bushes.

Sam and Robert stared at the retreating beast in shock.

"I guess monsters are starting to fear the prophesised Chosen One ..." Robert said unbelieving.

Sam smiled unasured. "But, I didn't even hit it"


Dread roared in anger. "Fool, you call that acting!"

The beast cowered. "But Lord, i am a deamon, not an actor ..."

Dread looked away, hoping that the mercenary can cover the imcompitence of his unintelligent servents. "They better be fooled ..." he said, with a hint of a threat.


The boy fell to his knees. "Sirs, you have saved my life ... how could I ever repay you?"

Sam smiled and helped him to his feet. "Don't worry," he said. "i'm just glad I could help".

Robert however was infuriated at Sam's foolish and dimwitted actions. "Boy! How could you just charge intheir risking your life! You should be focusing on killing Dread, now saving every person that gets in trouble!"

The boys eyes narrowed. "He saved my life sir ... I ask of you to show my saviour some respect".

Sir robert stopped his rambling for a brief moment and stared deep into the young boys eyes. The boy glared back, and Robert felt too intimidated by the boys gaze to contiune.

Sam was oblivius to the actions going on between his two followers. "What is your name?" he asked

The boy looked deep into Sam eyes and muttered, "my name is David".

"Well David you best be off home, your mother is probarlly looking for you". Robert said quickly.

David glared in hatred at Robert, anoyed that this dimwitted old man could ruin everything. "I would go home that is if i had a home to return to ... Dread destroyed my village, killed my parents. He would have killed me to, but i ran into the forest. That is when you found me sir ..."

Sam put his hand on the young boys shoulder and said "I'm sorry to hear that. Why don't you accompany us for a whi ---"

"I don't think that would be wise" robert inbterupted.

The boys eyes lit up. "You mean that! That would be great!"

Sam nodded and turning his back he continued to walk down the path. The boy turned to Robert, smiled, and followed briskly after Sam, with Robert in tail, wondering why such a young boy imtimidated him so.

Chapter seventeen:

Albert fell to his knees wiping sweat from his burning his eyes. The Shaman walked towards him, unaffected by the fight that had contiuned for the past hour. "One thing seperated me from you Albert"

Albert smiled and said mockingly, "Is it my great looks and your close comparrison to the extinct dodo?"

The Shaman grunted unaproving of his quick wit. "You are a human Albert. You tire. I am a god, untiring and unbeatable!"

Albert smiled and replied, "Actually Shaman, their is one more thing that seperates us".

The Shaman glared at him. "What's that?" she asked curiously.

"Our intelligence".

She looked at him confused, as he peaked an arrow into his bow.

"Have you not realized human weapons do not effect us Gods?" she said smirking.

"Live to fight another day," he quoted, before firing above the Shamans head.

Pebbles from the roof showered the Shaman, followed by a giant concrete pole.

"I would love to stay and see how more messed up your face is after hitting a giant slab of concrete. But Dread awaits my blade!"

He ran out the temple in pursuit of Dread.


Also by Nafan
"The Dragon Fang - Search for the Sword"  (The good copy!)
"Those three little words - part 1"  (Poem)
"The Man from Germange"  (Absurdist comedy play)
"The (not so) lucky country"  (Comedy play)
"Invalid Item"  (Comedy Play)
"Invalid Item"  {Tragic Skit)
"Invalid Item"  (Dramatic skit)
"Invalid Item"  (Extension: Interrior Monologue)