The Crimson Fang
Chapter 1 - The Beginning

“Joseph!” A voice rang out in the darkness. A young boy opened his eyes, and looked around his room, dazed. The sun was fighting its way through the curtains over his windows, as a breeze blew through them. Another voice broke the silence. “Joseph, wake up lad! Your mother has already prepared breakfast! Don’t make me come up there!” Joseph sat up, knowing what would happen, should his father come to get him. Too late! He was changing into his clothes for the day, when he heard his father marching up the stairs. It was a march that he had mastered in his three thousand years serving in the Crimson Noble army. It was a march that was both intimidating, and subtle.

Joseph had barely managed to fit his head through the hole in his tunic, when Sir Reinhardt charged through the door, a crazed look on his face. Joseph knew, from experience, that this look could only mean one thing. He attempted to leap out of the way, as Reinhardt grabbed his leg, hanging him upside down in front of him. Then it happened. Joseph’s head was thrown into a bent elbow, as a huge fist came down on top of it, and began rubbing.

“Not coming downstairs when your mother calls, is a capital sin,” he laughed. “She’s already yelled at me!” Joseph joined in his father’s laughter until a woman’s voice rose into the room. “Reinhardt! Joseph! Get down here this instant!” It was the voice of Seraphina, Joseph’s mother. She had a way of shouting sot that, not only was she heard, but it also made one feel that if they didn’t obey, it would mean trouble. “Scary,” Reinhardt shuddered. “We had better get moving!” With that, he picked his son up and carried him downstairs.

Awaiting the duo downstairs was a breakfast fit for a champion. Seraphina sat at the table, a look of impatience on her face. Reinhardt and Joseph sat down, quietly. Her face lifted into a smile. Today is your 100th birthday!” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Do you know what that means?” “It means I’m old?” Joseph asked, with a grin. “It means,” she started, annoyed once more, “that you are old enough to begin training as a warrior.” She was smiling, once again. Joseph always found it amazing how his mother could jump from one expression to another. Reinhardt was smiling, too. “I’ll begin training you after breakfast, so eat up!” Joseph was smiling now. He had forgotten that his real training would begin on his 100th birthday.

All Crimson Nobles begin their life training once they reach a century, in age. It is the equivalent of a human at age six, in appearance, at least. One of the big physical differences between the two races is that the Crimson nobles spend their first century training their bodies to be able to undergo the training, for whatever they are training to become. It is usually dependant on what their father, or mother, if the child is a female, does. One of the lads, two doors down from Joseph, for example, had begun training to become a harvester. His father was a harvester of the one thing the Crimson Nobles required, blood.

It is not that they require it for sustenance, but every warrior is required to bring a flask of the liquid on a mission, or into battle, in case of serious injury. Most don’t even empty their flask. One gulp is more than enough for Reinhardt, for example. The amount differs from warrior to warrior, though. One warrior, who had served with Reinhardt, had required his whole flask to heal a small arrow wound. Eventually, Reinhardt would have to test the amount of blood his son required to heal, as he would be following in his footsteps.

One of the girls that Joseph knew was training to be a scholar, until her mother passed away. She was then raised by her father. He, unfortunately, had no experience in anything, other than being a warrior. She had to retrain her body to withstand the abuse it would be taking, as she underwent her training as a warrior. He couldn’t seem to recall her name, only that she spent most of her time training with her father and her best friend, a silent girl, who Joseph had never heard speak. She had never known her father. Her mother told her that he had died in battle shortly before she was born, so her friend’s father, had sort of taken her under his wing, which meant she was also training to be a warrior. This was the best path, as her mother was a public speaker in the royal court.

Joseph had even heard of one young man, who did not follow his parents at all. He had begun his training as a warrior, teaching himself everything he knew. He had eventually started challenging the warriors in the army to sparring matches, to test him, as well as learn more. Joseph hoped he could someday meet this young warrior, as sort of a test to himself.

Joseph found himself thinking about all of this as he ate. Once they had finished eating, Reinhardt and Joseph went out to the barn behind their house. It was a fairly large building, which Joseph had only been in once before. It was filled with training gear, from ceiling to floor, and wall to wall. There were rows in between the multitude of shelves holding the gear, allowing enough space to walk, as well as separating the types of equipment.

There were weapons of all types, from great axes to daggers, bows to throwing knives. The weapons were made of everything from wood, to an extremely powerful metal, that Joseph tried to pronounce, but couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried. On the other side of the barn, were the armours. These were also made of many different materials, although there were much less to choose from than the weapons. His father said that it was dependant on the durability and flexibility of the material. The armours ranged in size from small to large, as well as what type.

There was a section for leg armour, body armour, helmets, and so forth. They were also sorted based on how much the armour covered. Part of Joseph’s training, his father had explained, would be to select his primary weapon, as well as learning to draw it, seemingly out of thin air.

Reinhardt and joseph spent their first hour fitting Joseph with a suit of leather armour. “This is merely for training purposes. Eventually, we will finalize your armour. Depending on how skilled you are, you won’t need as much. I served with a warrior, who didn’t even wear armour. He merely dodged every blow!” “Will I be able to do that, father?” “Who knows? As I said, it depends on how skilled you are.” Once the armour was fitted, they spent the next few hours going over the different types of weapons, as well as their advantages and their drawbacks.

Once they were finished going over the weapons, Reinhardt handed his son a wooden training sword and led him outside. “We’ll start your training with this one. This will allow you to get a feel for the weapon.” He taught Joseph the basics of attack and defence, and then told him to strike. They spent hours exchanging blows, until the sun was retreating behind the mountains surrounding the kingdom. Reinhardt smiled at his son, proud of how quickly he had picked up the basics. “Let’s call it a day, boy.” They returned the training weapons and the armour to the barn. Reinhardt picked his son up, placed him on his shoulders and they went into the house.

The next year had been pretty much the same, day in and day out. Each day, they trained with a different weapon type. When Reinhardt was sent on a mission, Joseph would train by himself, or with a training dummy. Reinhardt had some special dummies, which he had a spell cast upon, so they would fight back. Joseph had asked to use these, when he was away, but Reinhardt had said it was too dangerous for him. The spell caused the dummies not to stop attacking, until the magic word was uttered to them. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

A week after his next birthday, Reinhardt led him into the barn, as he had done almost every day before. This time, however, he didn’t grab a weapon. He turned to his son. “It is time to choose your weapon. The one you choose will be the one you train with primarily, from now on. This is a decision that should not be made lightly. I want you to choose the right one. You’re not going to be training for three days. Instead, you will be in here, meditating on your weapon of choice.” “Will I be eating and sleeping in here?” “You will not be eating or sleeping. These three days will be dedicated, solely, to choosing your weapon.” With that, Reinhardt left the barn, locking the door behind him.

At the end of the three days, Reinhardt entered the barn. “Have you decided?” He closed the door as he asked this question. “I have,” Joseph replied, without opening his eyes. “What’ll it be?” His eyes opened and he looked at his father. “I have decided to wield two blades.” He was smiling. “Are you certain? Dual wielding is a pretty tough one to master.” “Absolutely. Wielding two blades is my choice.” “Very well. We’ll resume training tomorrow.” He smiled as he and his son walked from the barn.

Unfortunately, it was not meant to be. Joseph descended the stairs, excited to resume his training with his two blades. As he reached the bottom, he heard his mother and father talking. Reinhardt, along with the rest of the Crimson Noble army, was being sent to fight the ancient evil that had escaped their prison. The Altros, an evil that far surpassed the demons who served them, had broken the seal that was placed upon them. Now they threatened to destroy the world, as well as every living thing in it. The Crimson Noble council of Elders, who had sealed the Altros in their prison millennia ago, were preparing to set the seal once more. They needed time, however, which was why the warriors were being summoned. They were to fend off the Altros, while the Elders prepared the seal. Reinhardt gave his wife and son a big hug, and went on his way to where the army was meeting.

Joseph went on training himself with his new weapons, while he and Seraphina awaited Reinhardt’s return. After a week, there was a knock at the door. When Seraphina answered and saw Leon, Reinhardt’s oldest and dearest friend, her heart sank. She knew what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. “May I come in?” Seraphina nodded, and the two of them sat at the table. Then, he said the words she was dreading. “Sera, I’m sorry. Reinhardt is dead.”

Joseph was training in the fields, even though the heavy clouds were forming overhead. A storm was brewing. It looked like it was going to be pretty bad, judging by how dark it was getting. He wasn’t going to let that stop him though. He had trained in storms before; it helped him work on his weapon grip. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, the back door of the house open. Standing there was Leon, his father’s best friend. He stopped for a moment and waved. He wondered why Leon wasn’t fighting by his father’s side. Leon was waving him toward the house. Joseph didn’t wish to end his early this early, but decided to go see what Leon wanted.

As he followed Leon through the door, he asked, “Why aren’t you fighting the Altros with my father?” Leon just looked at him and looked away. As the duo entered the kitchen, Joseph saw Seraphina crying at the table. “What’s the matter, mother?” Leon looked down at the young warrior-in-training, and saw Reinhardt in his face. “Sit down, Joseph. What I’m about to tell you may be hard to believe. Your father died, fighting the Altros.”

Leon began to explain what happened to the crying woman and the confused young warrior. “We were fighting the Altros for days. Reinhardt told me, after one battle, that he had a feeling that we were winning too easily. As the time passed, a few of us started to get the same feeling. Others merely said it was because nothing could stand against the might of the Crimson Noble army. Another opinion was that their time in their prison had made them weak, as they had nobody to fight against. On the fifth day, as we were fighting another hoard of them, we heard screams from behind us. The bastards had been burrowing beneath us, and came up behind the Elders!”

“Seeing we were distracted by what was happening, the front line charged us. Reinhardt told us to rescue the remaining Elders, as our victory rested on them. By the time we got there, there was only one Elder remaining. The Elders didn’t have the fighting ability to hold them off, and they were slaughtered. Reinhardt was fighting his hardest to keep the advancing army back, so we fought to keep the remaining Elder safe. He finally managed to summon the seal, and the Altros were, once again, imprisoned. When we went to do a body count, Reinhardt was among the dead. They had managed to overpower him, just as the seal was placed. I’m not going to describe the shape his body was in. His Majesty is planning a ceremony to honour his heroic sacrifice, and has told me to ask you two to attend. But, we’d understand if you don’t wish to go.”

“Of course, we’ll go!” For the first time, Seraphina had interrupted Leon. “When is it?” “In two days, in the Crimsonia town square.” “We’ll be there,” Seraphina promised. Leon nodded, turning to Joseph, who had been silent, in disbelief, the whole time. “As for you, I’ll be taking over training you, if that’s alright with you, lad. I owe more to your father, than I could ever hope to repay. Training you, in his stead, is the least I could do” Joseph sat for a few minutes, thinking, and nodded. “Great! We’ll start up the day after the ceremony.”

The time until the ceremony was a blur to Joseph. Between well-wishers and those sharing their condolences, he could no longer keep his fake smile on his face. He was growing tired of hiding the pain he was feeling inside, but he knew he needed to be strong, for Seraphina’s sake. She was counting on him to be there for her. He knew one thing was certain. He would never forgive the Altros for taking his father. If they ever broke through the seal again, he would make them pay. He would hunt down every last one, until none remained.

The day of the ceremony finally came. It was grand, showing that the king had spared nothing. He had even had the Mason’s Guild construct a statue of Reinhardt, which was impressive in two days. The king, himself, spoke some kind words about Sir Reinhardt. He had Joseph and Seraphina sit up in front of the crowd with him. This meant that Joseph had to endure his smile a little while longer.

Once the ceremony was over, Leon stood with Seraphina as people came up to speak to her. Joseph had headed home, almost immediately. He headed into the barn and grabbed, instead of the wooden swords he was training with, two of the blades made of the metal he couldn’t pronounce. He needed to work out his anger and pain, and the wooden blades would not suffice. He brought some of the special training dummies out and activated them. They immediately attacked. He had spent hours fighting them, when Leon and Seraphina came home.

The two of them had searched the house for Joseph, when they heard the sounds of clashing blades outside. They ran out and saw Joseph fighting the dummies. As they approached, they passed the remains of many of the dummies, covered in blood. When they reached Joseph, he chopped the remaining dummy in half. They saw tears streaming down his face, as well as wounds all over his body, not only from the dummies, but from the blades as well. “Hey, are you all right?” Leon asked, as Seraphina ran to her son. He was breathing extremely heavily, as if he had just come out of a rage. After a few moments, he turned to his mother and collapsed. Leon took a flask from his pocket, opened it and placed it to the exhausted warrior’s mouth. Before he tilted it to allow the liquid inside to enter his mouth, Joseph’s wounds began to heal. Leon looked at Seraphina, wide-eyed. “This is amazing! I’ve never seen such expeditious healing! Not even from Reinhardt!” Joseph opened his eyes, and looked up at Leon. “We start tomorrow?” Leon nodded and the three of them made their way into the house.

For the next five months, Leon trained Joseph intensely. At the beginning of May, he approached him. “I’m going to tech you the secret of this.” He made a huge spear appear out of thin air. Joseph watched in awe. “It’s not entirely out of thin air,” he explained, “but more of an extension of you.” Joseph looked at him, confused. “Your weapon is a part of you. You’ve been using the blades from five months ago, so they will be harder to materialize. However, the more you do, the easier it will become. And, the less it will hurt.” “Hurt? What do you mean?” “You’ll see, trust me.” They went into the barn.

Leon sat on the floor. “Grab your blades and sit in front of me.” Joseph obeyed, grabbing the blades he had been using. “Place them on the floor in front of you. Good. Now, focus on the blades. Close your eyes. Think of nothing, save for the blades in front of you. Even my voice is distant to you. Now, reach out and pick the blades up. Envision them. Add your arms to the vision.” After about twenty minutes of this, Joseph felt incredible pain in his arms. “Keep focusing!” He could feel something moving in his arms, under his skin, now. He continued to focus, ignoring the warm liquid that covered his hands. After another ten minutes, he could no longer feel the movement.

“You can open your eyes now.” He opened them to see his hands covered in blood, pouring from his wrists. The blades were nowhere to be seen. He looked at Leon, who handed him his flask. “Drink,” he ordered. Joseph drank from the flask, feeling relief as his wrists healed. “What you have just experienced was the absorption of the blades into your body. No doubt you felt them sliding into your arms. Don’t bother trying to describe it. The experience is different from one warrior to the next. The type of weapon, as well as the material used, seems to play a part in it. Next, we’ll work on materializing the blades.”

“Focus your mind again, this time on your arms. Don’t close your eyes this time. Think of nothing, except for retrieving your blades.” Another ten mi9nutes passed. “Raise your hands above your head. Now, picturing the blades in your hands, throw your arms to your sides.” Joseph did so, and felt the pain once more, as his wrists opened, allowing the blades to slide out into his hands. This time, however, there was no blood. His wrists immediately closed. He looked at Leon, shocked. “I told you, they are now a part of you. We’ll start each day’s training with bringing your blades out, from now on. It will become easier, and less painful.” For the next two centuries, they trained every day. As Leon had promised, every time he brought his blades forth, Joseph felt less pain, and they appeared more easily.

One day suddenly, Leon approached Joseph, with a smile on his face. “I have news for you. There’s a tourney taking place in Crimsonia. This is a chance for you to test your abilities. There are going to be warriors from all over the kingdom. Make us proud.” “You want me to enter?” “You’re already in.” The two began another day of training, to prepare Joseph for the tournament.

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