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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2002837-Destinys-Blade-An-epic-fantasy-adventu
by Weezy
Rated: E · Novella · Fantasy · #2002837
Marc is enrolled in the Castle, where he will hone his powers as Wielder of the Sword...
PROLOGUE

It was a dark, cold night. Galfan ran through the dimly lit dungeon tunnels as Mortusian soldiers chased after him. The wizard kept his bag close, because in it was the 7 DragonBoxes. The soldiers couldn’t catch up with him, and he almost got away, until…

“Stop, wizard!” a cloaked man exclaimed. The man was right in front of Galfan. The man wore dark, red-trimmed cloak. His hood was off, and by his waist hung a golden rod. At the rod’s end was a blade.

“Give me the boxes…” the man said. “Now!!!”

Galfan looked at the man with a face filled with rage and hate. “You’ll never have them, Mortus!”

Mortus pulled out his rod. It started glowing. “Those shall be your last words, wizard!”

“Porteletho!” the wizard muttered, and in a flash, he, and the boxes, disappeared.

CHAPTER ONE

THE BIRTH OF A HERO

Marc walked through the castle halls. He was all-alone, his footsteps echoing through the hall. It had to have been 70 feet tall, he thought. Its length could fit 12 people arm-stretched side by side. It was the beginning of dawn, and rays of light pierced the windows of the great building. The boy knew the castle very well; after all, he had lived here ever since he was six. Suddenly Marc heard footsteps that weren’t his.

He whirled around.

“Wh-who’s there?” he asked worriedly.

“It’s me, Jonathan,” said Jonathan. Marc and Jonathan were best friends; they had both lived in the castle since they were kids. Jonathan wore a tattered brown, sleeveless tunic that dropped down to his knees. “You look worried.”

“Yeah,” sighed Marc. “Its just that this year I turn eleven, which means that my training as a knight starts today.”

“Don’t worry, man, everyone who turns eleven that is going to train to be a knight in this castle is starting their training today.” He smiled. “I’m prepared.”

Marc felt afraid that he might not become a knight, but he just knew that he was destined for greatness. The duo sprinted over to the Castle Square, but Marc stopped.

“I feel light-headed,” said Marc to Jonathan.

Suddenly he had a vision: It was of his mother telling him that he was destined for greatness.

“Are you alright, dude?” Jonathan asked.

Marc nodded, rubbing his forehead.

Marc missed his family. He missed his mother and aunts and cousins, but mostly his mother. His mother was the only one who had raised him. He never knew his father; she always told Marc that his father died as a knight in The War. Marc missed his village, the Village of Storhold. He remembered how poor he and his mother would sometimes get, and how he and his family had to sell mangoes for a measly price in the sweltering sun, while people who were more fortunate would walk by and laugh at them.

He remembered the day where his mother sent him to the Castle. He had kept asking his mother why she was sending him away. She said that he was going to be someone, and that he wasn’t going to let his life waste being a poor seller-boy. She told him that he’d understand when he got older. She sent him thousands of leagues away to a place he never knew or understood. But after a long 5 years, The Castle felt like home.

CHAPTER TWO:

PREPARATION

Marc and Jonathan had everything they needed for training: a weapon (Marc’s short sword and Jonathan’s longbow), a shield, books, and other accessories. They were told to put it in the possession room, which was a building so large the human eye couldn’t see the whole thing from close by. They dropped off their items and walked towards the Castle Square. As they walked to the castle square, a hand appeared on Marc’s shoulder. Marc turned around and saw that it was Master Balin, a Knight who had practically raised Marc ever since he came to the Castle. Master Balin was the one who had provided all of the supplies Marc needed for Knight training.

“Master Balin!” said Marc. “You startled me there!”

Master Balin had a solemn face. “Marc, I need to talk to you,” said the Knight.

“I’ll meet up with you at the Castle Square,” Marc told to Jonathan.

Marc’s friend nodded and ran to the Castle Square. Marc waved to his friend and him and Master Balin went to Master Balin’s room. Marc asked Master Balin, “You needed to talk to me?”

“Marc,” said Master Balin, “There is no way to explain this easily, so I’ll just start with this: The world is in grave danger.”

CHAPTER THREE

Marc leaped back. “Master, what do you mean, ‘grave danger’?”

Master Balin continues: “In the world, there are many large land masses, and together we all call them Argonia. An evil tyrant rose up and forcefully took control of all of Argonia. That man’s name is Mortus.”

Marc, of course, knew Mortus; everyone knew Mortus.

“Mortus is a wicked man. He loves hate, and death, and suffering, and wants total control of the world. As every day goes by, Mortus is taking another part of land and merging it with his vast kingdom of Mortusia. He is filled with hate and evil, and many people believe that he is The Devil himself.

“As you know, the Prophecies are scroll and books that have prophecies of the future, true stories, and much more. They are the Creator’s written documents, and they were given to us. Mortus hates these ancient, holy books, and he wishes to destroy all copies of them. If this happens, all hell will break loose.

“But there are people who rebel against that monster. We at the Castle are one of those people. We despise him and his hatred, and the 5 Castles are and have always been fighting against him.”

“What?” Marc said. “Five Castles?”

“Yes,” Master Balin said. “There are five Castles: The North, South, East, and West Castles, located in the outer reaches of Argonia. This Castle is the Central Castle. All the Castles and other rebellion groups fight to stop the evil tyrant. And our only hope is what the Prophesies say: that one will rise up to be a great hero, and will have to power to stop the evil tyrant Mortus from having total control of the world. That hero would be called the Chosen One.

“Marc,” said Master Balin, “You might be the Chosen One.”

CHAPTER FOUR: THE SWORD OF LIGHT

Master Balin motioned to Marc to follow him, and they reached a large, golden chest. Master Balin uttered a phrase in a weird language and suddenly, the large chest in his room opened. It looked like the inside of it was glowing. Master Balin put both hands in the chest, and pulled something out… It was a sword. It was sheathed, with a purple cloth elegantly wrapped around the blade. The sword was pulsating with a golden aura.

“You have the potential to be a great knight, but you also have the power to be an evil force like Mortus. You could also decide not to fight against evil or good and be neutral. The choice is yours.” Balin handed Marc the sword.

Balin continued: “If you wish to fight against evil and become a righteous warrior, draw the sword. But if not, do not unsheath the sword.”

“I understand, Master Balin,” nodded Marc.

Marc drew the Sword of Light.

Suddenly, the earth shook under Marc’s feet, and the clouds thickened, blocking out the sun. Lightning struck.

Then, as suddenly as the storm came, it was gone.

“Whoa,” Marc said. “Why did the weather change? Not only that, but I feel like I have been completed, like a part of me has just been connected with another part. And I feel such power pulsing through my veins.”

“Those were effects of the enormous magical power that had been brought out,” Balin said. “Remember, when you’re in times of trouble, find the magic within yourself. The magic will help you. Now, go to your training!”

CHAPTER FIVE: THE CASTLE SQUARE

Marc ran to the Castle Square. He was ready to become a Knight. The Castle Square is humongous, and it is impossible to see all of it with the naked eye.

All around him, Marc saw children who looked his age to children who looked like adults, armed with swords, shields, axes, maces, bows and arrows, spears, staffs, nun-chucks, etc. They all had bags with books in them, as well. Boys and girls were chatting amongst themselves.

But what Marc sensed the most was all of the magic essence flowing around, which meant that there were many in the area with magical abilities, talents, and potential. Marc observed that some people were sparring with swords.

Strange, thought Marc, Some people are so eager to battle that they’ve already started jousting amongst themselves.

He was armed, with two swords: the first one Balin gave him, and the Sword of Light, given to him by Balin also. A shield was strapped to his back, and so was a bag full of books.

Marc wondered where Jonathan is, so he started calling out, “Jonathan! Jonathan!”

Suddenly, the teen felt a presence of great magic. He saw a boy blocking a girl’s way. They both looked to be the same age as Marc. The girl looked to be about Marc’s height, and she had a gray robe and trousers on, as did almost everyone int he Castle. A stylish sheathed blade was strapped to her waist. The boy looked like royalty; he had on a purple, gold-trimmed cloak, and under it he had a blue robe and blue trousers. His hair was neatly and carefully cut. Although the boy wasn’t short for his age, he looked like a midget compared to the two husky, large boys who were on either side him. He only stood at their shoulders at best, and they both looked threatening. They also appeared to be identical twins, and wore gray robes and trousers also.

“Excuse me,” she said. She tried to get out of their way, but they blocked her again. “Excuse me,” she said again, but they moved in her way again.

“I like that necklace,” sneered the boy, “Give it to me.”

“Or you’ll do what?” replied the girl

The three boys circled around the girl, getting closer and closer. “Hand it over,” the shortest boy said.

The girl reached for her weapon with her right hand and pulled out the blade. The ring of the blade silenced the extremely large room (Which shouldn’t be called a room, for it was larger than most open areas), echoing through its large walls. She held it with both hands in a defensive position.“Stay away from me!” the girl exclaimed. A crowd was gathering around the scene, waiting to see what would happen. Marc ran to the opening in the middle of the crowd. He kept a tight grip on the Sword of Light in case he needed to use it swiftly.

People in the crowd were yelling out, “Leave her alone!” “Let her go!” But no one wanted to go in there, because they knew who the boy bothering the girl was. They also knew that they wouldn’t be a match against the boy. Also, the people in the front of the crowd circling her were all boys, who seemed to be rooting the boy.

Suddenly Jonathan ran up to the middle of the crowd, right next to Marc, yelling at the three boys. His sword wasn’t drawn yet, but Marc knew that Jonathan was prepared to do defend himself.

“Hey!” exclaimed Jonathan, “Why don’t you just leave her alone!”

Marc ran over to the scene. “Yeah. Just leave her alone and there won’t be any problems.”

The smaller boy focused his attention on Jonathan. Then he walked over to him.

“I smell slave,” the boy said.

“I’m no slave, William!” roared Jonathan.

“That’s Prince William to you!” spat the boy. “Someone as low and poor as you shouldn’t be talking to a Prince like that.” The boy circled Jonathan, examining him. “You’re from the town of Azare; I can always smell a rat.”

The crowd gasped.

“Maybe that stench is from you,” defended Marc.

The crowd oohed.

The boy laughed. “It humors me, how the Azarian men wear braids to commemorate the Azarian “warriors” who died fighting on the day that my great-grandfather’s men ransacked your whole village, when your village has no warriors but a bunch of pathetic primates who call themselves warriors.”

No one else could see the anger boiling inside Jonathan, but Marc knew exactly how angry his friend was getting.

“Oh, and by the way,” the boy added, “If you ever talk to me like that again, my father the king will personally make sure that you go back to that jungle you came from, and make you and your family spend the rest of your lives as the maggot-ridden pigs and bottom-feeders you are.”

Marc felt like pummeling the boy to the ground, and he knew that so did Jonathan.

The boy then turned to Marc. He glanced at Marc’s sword “I can see that you have the magnificent Sword of Light. As you can see, I hold a sword similar to that as well,” The boy said as he pulled out his sword from his cloak. It looked like it was worth a whole kingdom in gold. “My name is Prince Henry William Stephen Charles III, first son of His Highness King Henry the Great II. But you can just call me Stephen. It is splendid to meet you,” said Stephen. He glanced at the sword at Marc’s side. “That is the Sword of Light, eh? So the prophecies were true. The Wielder lives.”

Stephen reached out his hand to shake Marc’s, but Marc didn’t shake his.

Marc was boiling in anger. The two boys were still surrounding the girl. “Let her go,” Marc told them with an angry stare. Stephen nodded to the twins, and they let her go.

“Look, my friend, you have to know who your allies are if you ever want to be a knight.” Stephen’s hand was still out to shake Marc’s hand, but Marc slapped his hand away.

“How dare you--”

“First off,” Marc said, “I don’t care who you are, don’t ever talk to my friend like that. Ever. Secondly, You’re not my friend. Thirdly, you shouldn’t be the one telling people about being a knight when you’re nothing near it. Fourthly, you don’t have the right to try to steal people’s possessions.”

The crowd oohed.

One of the husky boys who were with Stephen lunged himself at Marc, but before he could get his hands on Marc, Jonathan clouted him in the face, sending him flying the other way. His twin roared, and tried to grab the girl-warrior; but before he could touch her, she elbowed him in the mouth with her right arm, and a tooth went flying. She then spinned around, punching him with her other arm. He fell to the floor in pain.

“Stupid girl!” barked Stephen. “You’ll regret defying me!” The enraged prince drew his sword angrily. Marc followed, drawing the Sword of Light.

“You dare raise a weapon against a prince!” continued Stephen.

Billy Braxton got up and were about to fight Marc and Jonathan, but Stephen said, “Don’t embarrass yourselves more than you already have. Bested by a rat and a woman?” He then looked at Marc, Jonathan and Jade with a face full of loathing, saying, “This isn’t over!” Then him and the twins left the scene.

The crowd disbanded and everything went back to normal: The people were chatting amongst themselves, trading weapons, sparring, etc.

“Hey,” a female voice said. The voice was right behind Marc, so he turned around and saw the girl that Stephen and his friends were bothering. She looked to be about just as tall as him, and a few inches shorter than Jonathan. She had long, straight brown hair and shining brown eyes. Her skin was a light, radiant tan. What Marc also noticed about her the most was the blue jewel that hung around her neck. He sensed magical aura coming from the necklace, and his sword was emanating a power he could sense when he got near it. “Thanks for helping me out over there.” She held out her hand for him to shake. “My name’s Jade. What’s yours?”

“Marc,” replied Marc as they shook hands. He motioned to Jonathan. “This is my friend, Jonathan.”

“Hey, Jonathan.” She waved to Jonathan and he waved back. Suddenly, two girls ran over to Marc. One was Red-Haired and one had black hair. The red-head had long hair and .

The brunette said, “That was amazing, what you did. Thanks for helping out my friend.”

Jade smiled. “These are my friends, Shelby and Emily.”

Shelby, the brunette, and Emily, the Red-Head, both waved at Marc. “Hi, I’m Marc,” he said.

“I guess we’ll see you later then,” said Jade. She left as she blended into the crowd.

“Man,” Jonathan said, “Did you see that necklace she wore? It looks mysterious.”

“Yeah,” replied Marc. “I have a feeling she’s a lot stronger than she looks.”

“And that Stephen guy was such a jerk!” said Jon. “I ought to pound his face into the ground!”

Marc nodded. I have a feeling this won’t be the last time that Stephen and I meet, the boy thought.

Suddenly, a horn blew, and the whole Castle Square was filled with its noise.

Marc heard a voice say “Everyone quiet down!” He recognized it as the Groundskeeper Rootenmagger. The Groundskeeper had a thick accent. Rootenmagger stood on a tall platform as he spoke: “Everybody over here!”



All of the students ran over there and waited for him to speak:

CHAPTER SIX: THE HOUSES

“You will all each be given a sheet of paper with a number on it. That number is where your dorm room will be during your stay here. There is a map of the Castle as well that will be given to you.”

Marc was given a sheet of paper about 6x6 inches. It said ‘186’. He was also handed a map, and a badge, that had what he guessed was the logo of Red House: A Red Dragon. There were many things on the map, and it was huge. Each house had a boys and girls side, and a first-year boys and girls side, surrounding the Castle Square.

“Here are some ground rules:

Obey the adults at all times.

Do not go into another House, gender side, or non-first year area without expressed permission.

Have your badge in your possession AT ALL TIMES.

And most importantly, do not go into the woods without expressed permission.”

As Groundskeeper Rootenmagger dismissed them, Marc followed the map to his dorm room, room 186.



“Right new starts the beginning of your training’,” said Rootenmagger. “You will be split into different groups, or Houses: Blue House and Red House, each with their own Senior and Junior Head. The Junior Head is one of yew, a 4th year or higher student. Currently the Junior Heads for each House are Haier Neo for Blue House, Salabaster Salam, for Red house, Jennifer Josephs for , and Justin Jacobs for Purple House. The Senior Heads for each House are HeadMaster Penelope for Blue House, HeadMaster Vaultich of Red House, Headmaster Garbin of Purple House, and HeadMaster Halrich for . You’ll be putting them by the GrandMaster of the castle, based on your personality. Students gather up around me!”

All of the students gathered up around Groundskeeper Rootenmagger. He pointed to 5 blue and red flags, all with different symbols on them. “Listen, kids, if GrandMaster Galfan put you in Blue House, go to the Blue Flag. If he told you to go to Red House, go to the red flag. He stepped off the platform and someone else took his place on it. He was dressed in a baggy blue wizards robe and hat. A gray beard fell down his chin.

It’s GrandMaster Galfan! Thought Marc. Marc was shocked; usually GrandMaster Galfan wasn’t seen by normal people, especially not by children.

The crowd of students was dead silent before him. GrandMaster Galfan spoke: “One at a time, someone come on the platform.”

A student went on the podium. GrandMaster Galfan’s hand hovered over the boy’s head, leaving it there for a few seconds. Then he said, “Blue House!” The small boy went over to the Blue Flag.

Soon, many students were put into groups.

A boy came on the podium, and GrandMaster Galfan said, “Red House!”

Another boy came on the podium, and GrandMaster Galfan said, “Red House!”

Many people were in their different Houses. It was Jade’s turn. GrandMaster Galfan’s hovered over her head. A few seconds later, he yelled, “Blue House!” All of the students from Blue House were cheering for her as she went over to the flag.

Marc noticed a pudgy, round kid eating a roast turkey leg. This sight amused him. He also saw a skinny kid

Suddenly, Marc felt someone shove him from behind. It was Stephen. Stephen shoved him with his shoulder as he walked along to the podium. The two husky twins followed after him, snorting with laughter from something Stephen said. GrandMaster Galfan lay his hand on Stephen’s head. He then said, “Red House!” and did the same with the two other boys. The people at Red House cheered for Stephen as he walked over there.

There were a considerable amount of students at each flag. Jonathan went up, and GrandMaster Galfan lay his hand on Jonathan’s head, saying, “Blue House!” The people at Blue House cheered for him as he walked over there.

After a considerable amount of people had been grouped, Marc went up. GrandMaster Galfan lay his hand on Marc… Minutes went by, until finally GrandMaster Galfan said something: “Mmm,” he said, “I see great potential in your future, Marc… You have the characteristics of any House, but something is telling me you should be put in—“

The Castle Square was dead silent as the students waited in suspense.

GrandMaster Galfan took a quick glance at Marc’s sword. “BLUE HOUSE!” exclaimed GrandMaster Galfan. The students at the Blue Flag cheered with joy as Jonathan waved the flag back and forth in zeal.

Many people were grouped, and then Marc noticed a strangle-looking boy about his height. The boy had weird, black markings around his face, and wild blond hair and blue eyes. Suddenly Marc felt a jolt shoot through his body. It was the sword. It seemed like this happened when Marc was around something magical.

Marc saw that the boy didn’t have any weapons; just a small, tattered brown doll in his right hand.

He knew that there was something weird about that boy. I’d better avoid him, thought Marc; He looks like he could do a lot of damage.

Marc suddenly saw it—the boy just bumped into a student waiting in line.

“Hey,” the student said, “Watch where you’re goin’, dude!”

Suddenly the boy opened his eyes wide and stared straight into the student’s eyes. It was a cold stare, full of hatred and wickedness. The student suddenly became paralyzed, and Marc could see even from a substantial distance away that the student was filled with fear. The student fell to the ground, and 5 students helped him up.

Whoa! Thought Marc.

In a few minutes the boy was in front of the line, and Galfan put his hand on the boy as Galfan called out, “Red House!”

Finally everyone was paired into his or her different groups. GrandMaster Galan said, “Now, students, know that your House is who you are, and you will always be in that house until the day you become a Knight.”

“Blue House!” yelled GrandMaster Galan, and Blue House members cheered as someone waved the flag.

“Red House!” yelled GrandMaster Galan, and Red House members cheered as someone waved the flag.

The same thing was done for the other Houses.

Adults were passing out leather plate-bodies and helmets until GrandMaster Galan said, “Everyone put those on and go outside!” The students cheered and ran outside. Marc saw that each team wore grey leather armor. They also wore a helmet with a feather sticking out of it the color of their House.



CHAPTER SEVEN: THE GROUPS

Groundskeeper Rootenmagger got on the podium again, and said with a loud voice: “One last thing before we continue on. All of you must group up into groups of 3 to 5. But be warned, having a large number of people in your group isn’t neccessarily better, and vice versa.

Another warning: Choose your groups carefully. They will eat with you, fight with you, sleep in the same rooms as you. Once you have made your group, go to an adult to sign yourselves in your group. All members must be present to sign that they are in the group. Go on now!”

The crowd was in mass chaos, and Marc found Jonathan. They made a group of two, and Marc said, “I guess we need one more member.”

“But we don’t really know anyone here,” Jonathan said. “Wait a minute, what about that one girl? She looks like she’d be good in a fight.”

“You’re right,” agreed Marc. “I’ll go look for her.” Marc hurriedly ran around looking for her; he didn’t want to have to pair up with someone who didn’t know. They could be bad, and it would be much more convenient to pair up with someone that looked strong, and nice. If I don’t find her, Marc thought, I might have to pair up with Stephen! This thought made him search all the harder for her. Suddenly, not looking where he was going, he bumped into something, or someone, and fell to the ground. On the ground, getting up, was Jade.

“I’m so sorry,” Marc apologized.

“It’s okay,” Jade said. “I’m not as weak as I look.”

When they both got up, Marc said, “I was wondering if you...wanted to be in our group.”

“Sure,” responded Jade.

They went a long ways to find an adult to sign up (The lines were extremely long) and signed up. They had to squeeze through the large amounts of people, and walk through many hallways to get to the adult.

“Hello, children,” the adult said in a gruff voice, smiling. The adult had an unkempt, large beard, and long hair. His clothes were dirty and reeked of dirt and mud. “What can I do you for?”

Jade spoke: “We need to sign up for our groups.”

“Sure,” replied the adult. “Please excuse my stench. I just had to do a long list of chores.”

“Oh,” said Jonathan. “You’re the groundskeeper?”

The man nodded. “The name’s Baground. What are your names?”

“Jade of the Ava clan,” said Jade.

“Marc of the MangoBerry clan,” said Marc

“Jonathan of the Azaria clan,” said Jonathan.

“You’re all signed up,” the man said after writing on a scroll.

As the trio were saying their thanks, Jonathan looked at a small pouch filled with something. The leather pouch had a lizard drawn on it.

“What’s that pouch for?” asked Jonathan.

“It has feed for my pet lizard,” replied Baground.

“Cool,” Jonathan said. “I love lizards. What type of lizard is it?”

“It’s a rare breed called Sharptongued lizard.”

“Cool!” Jonathan said. “Can my friends and I check it out sometime?”

“Sure,” Baground said. “I’m free tomorrow right after 8th hour.”

“We’ll be sure to make it there,” Jonathan said.

Ask the three of them were walking back, Marc said, “I wonder what a Sharptongued lizard looks like in real life.”

Jade chimed in: “I heard they have exceptional hearing.”

Suddenly, a figure was walking towards them. The shadowy figure became more visible as it walked closer and closer. Marc could make out spiky blond hair and cold blue eyes.

It was Stephen.

“Out of my way,” the malicious Stephen said. He shoved Jonathan.

“Hey!” said Jonathan. “Don’t shove me!”

“Or what?” taunted Stephen. The blond-haired boy stuck out his right palm, and was about to cast a spell.

Almost immediately Jonathan grabbed his sword-hilt. His sword was halfway drawn when Baground appeared between them.

“Halt,” he said. “Unauthorized duels are prohibited. Now everyone go to where they’re supposed to be.”

Marc, Jonathan, and Jade; now a group, went back and followed Groundskeeper Rootenmagger, along with the rest of the first-years, to the middle of the woods. The Groundskeeper stopped, saying, “Do not forget your groups. You will need them, and they will be in all of your classes. Now let’s continue.”

CHAPTER EIGHT: CAPTURE THE FLAG


The forest was splendid; there weren’t to many trees, but just a few obstacles like rocks and trees and bushes for challenge.

“Humph,” Stephen added, crossing his arms, “A fitting place for battle.”

“Good observation, Stephen,” commended Rootenmagger, “Because this is where you all ‘re going to play capture de flag. You each mast all go to your own groups. Every member of a House will know where their own House flag is, but not the other Houses’ flags.” He motioned to four different areas. “You’ll each go too your own hidden flags. When I sound the horn, you’ll start the battle. Capture the other team’s flag by any means necessary, except don’t kill them. If your team finds another team’s flag, you have to bring it back to your territory. First one to do this wins. When a team wins, the horn of the Castle will be rung and everyone must go back to their own territories.

“Also, there’s a point system. The more excellent things you do, the more points your team gets. For example,” he gestured at a scrawny boy with freckles and a sheathed dagger by his waist. “If Lenny here got a question right during class, the Professor of his class may give his House 10 points depending on the difficulty of the question.”

“What happens when you win points?” An orange-haired boy asked.

“Well, Whoever wins the game gains 750 points for his team.”

Each team ran to its own spots in the forest. A few seconds later, a loud horn sounded. There were battle cries in the air as boys and girls drew their weapons and ran to the other teams’ sides. Marc yanked his blade from its sheath. The student did not see his friend, Jonathan. He suddenly sensed danger. He whirled around and behind him he saw looked behind him as he saw a Red House member running towards him with a bronze mace.

Marc tried to kick straight into the teen’s gut, but missed his mark as the Purple House member dodged the hit. Then the Red House member swung at Marc with his mace, but missed as Marc ducked. Marc felt a loud thunk as immediately he fell to the ground, unconscious.

He regained consciousness as he heard someone with a large splintered wood staff and a clean shaved boy wielding a bronze mace staring above him. Marc figured that the one wielding the wood staff must’ve knocked him out with it.

“You’ve got a pretty thick head to be able to break my Kuju, kid,” the kid said. “Now tell me where the flag is, and I just might not beat the snot out of you for breaking my Kuju.”

“Wh-where’s my sword?” Marc asked. “He saw his sword and sheath by the waist of the kid with the mace.

“It’s mine now,” he said.

The boy with the splintered wood staff yelled, “Where is the flag!”

“I’ll never tell you,” Marc replied, getting up.

“Humph,” said the boy with the wood staff, “Then I’ll just beat it out of you!”

The boy ran up to Marc and swung downward at Marc, aiming for his head. Marc swerved backward, dodging the strike, and kicked the Kuju, breaking it in half. The boy with it roared, and Marc punched the boy in the face as the boy fell. Marc didn’t know he had such incredible strength. The other kid dashed to Marc, mace in hand.

Marc kicked him in the stomach before the kid had a chance to attack him. Marc wrenched his sword and sheath out of the kid’s belt and unsheathed it. Marc suddenly felt the magic pulsing through him again.

“Fix!” the boy said, and the staff returned to its original form. “Spear!” he said, and the staff turned into a spear. The boy threw the spear at Marc. It missed as Marc dodged it and buried itself into a tree. The boy was running at Marc, and Marc grabbed the spear and threw it at the boy. It stabbed the boy’s hand, and the boy screamed in pain.

Marc went up to him. “Where is my friend?” he asked, sword pointing to the boy’s face.

“Th-They took him over there,” the boy said as he pointed to a large oak tree far away. Marc rushed, sword in hand, to the thick oak as he saw a couple of kids around Joey. They were gang beating him, kicking and punching him.

“Where’s your flag!” a red-headed boy said to Jonathan.

“I’ll never tell you!” Jonathan yelled, and they kept kicking him.

“Leave my friend alone!” Marc yelled, and the redhead pulled out a long sharp knife, and lunged it at Marc, but the swordsman dodged it, and the redhead only jabbed the air by Marc’s side.

Marc slashed the redhead with his blade, and the wound made its mark by the redhead’s side. The redhead clutched the wound in pain, and yelled, “Retreat!”

The boys by the redhead ran away along with the redhead, and in seconds they were out of sight. Marc helped Jonathan up, and asked, “Are you alright?”

Jonathan had some bruises by his side, but he didn’t look seriously hurt. “I’m fine,” he replied. “But it hurts too much to move my right arm.”

“Look, we need to look for a team’s flag so we can win this,” Marc said.

“Which team’s territory are we in?” asked Jon.

“I’m not so sure,” replied Marc, “But those guys that had ambushed me and led me to where you were being ambushed were Purple House members, so we are probably in Purple Territory.”

Marc looked at Jon’s wound and saw a long cut across his friend’s arm.

“It needs to be washed up so it doesn’t get infected,” Marc said. He ran over to the nearest spring of water,which was about a mile away hidden inside the forest.

When he got there, he was shocked as he saw the Red House Flag! It was on the other side of the river. “The flag!”

Marc leaped over the river and ran for the flag. He was about to grab it and get out of there, when suddenly…

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

Marc turned around and saw Stephen, in a purple cloak, laying on a long branch of a short tree.

“And what if I did?” Marc asked.

“Well, then I’d have to deal with it,” stephen replied.

Marc drew his sword. “I’d like to see you try.”

Stephen hopped out of the tree and spread out his hands. Suddenly a strong breeze flew in the wind, flapping his cape in the air, revealing Stephen’s sword. “Prepare to face my blade!”

They both ran to each other, and in that moment their swords clashed, vibrating the air. Each sword attack that stephen presented, Marc parried.

“Enough!” a voice yelled from the bushes. A tall girl appeared from the bushes. She looked like she was in Red House. She had dark black hair that flowed past her shoulders, and a sword that hung at her shoulder. “Step down, Stephen. I’ll deal with this weakling.” She walked over to the two of them.

“Stay out of this, Rachel. He’s mine!”

She made a hand gesture and Stephen was pushed 5 feet away back to the tree he was at before. “Now that that’s out of the way,” she said, “How about we fight? If you defeat me, the flag is all yours.”

“Okay,” Marc said. He knew that she must be strong if she tossed Stephen 5 feet away without touching him. She drew her sword elegantly and ran to him, sword point facing the ground. Marc was prepared, blade in two hands, sword at the ready.

A foot from Marc’s face Rachel disappeared in a blur. Marc turned around and was knocked to the ground by her sword handle. He fell to the ground; at this point at least 25 people were watching this event happen. Wiping his mouth, Marc ran up to her for an attack.

He swung at her head as she swiftly ducked, then Marc spun, swinging the sword near her legs. She hopped, as Marc missed.

Their swords clashed and clanged; Rachel swung down on Marc, and there was a loud clang as Marc blocked it with his horizontal sword. She was trying to break his grip on his sword with her blade, and she succeded as he went down on the grass.

“You’re weak,” she said, “and you’ll never be a knight!”

Marc snapped. He felt the sword’s power surging through him. He got up.



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