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[Arakad]

---

What is it that turns an angel into a devil...
...or attracts one to the other?
What is it?
What is it that pulls a man in many directions all at once...
but which at the same time...
...also holds him together?


- Prelude


The clouds were a dark black, no color to the sky above Reg Volom. The Ilshenar Moon completely over taken by a shadow, an eclipse. A woman in brown and green robes lay straped at the base of the altar deep beneath the Ethereal Temple of Termir Ilshen lake. Her dark matted red hair laid muddy against her cat-like face, her legs spread eagle upon a black marble alter, within the chamber each monument and tomb gave a dark pulsating aura about the haunted mausoleum. The front of each tomb gave way to a protruding face, then hands and body until before each came forth beings clade in Shrouds of Shadows. They began to crowd into the center of the chamber, muttering the infernal speach before moving forth to the sacrifice. Twelve priests, each of a different order, each meer.

The Shadow Casters drew their kryss, each hued with poisons of the Terathan as they drew the Anjuric markings of sorcery upon the alter that the meer woman laid upon. Each scratch seemd to fall constant with the flash of pale lightning above the temple. Each marking left a scream of cat scretching pain from the pregnant woman before them.

The Head Priest reached with thin skeletal hands towards the womans abdomen, regardless of her jerkings against the manacles and shackles that kept her. The Infernal speach fo the Shadow Casters continued. Raising the crooked blade of the kryss, the man drove its tip between the womans thighs, disregarding the soul quenching screams and the bloody gorge sound of blade slicing thin flesh, ripping with a quick jerk upwards until her inards laid for the sinister beings to percieve.

The altar slowly seems to crumble beneath the woman's body, the ancient anjur markings fading into non-existence. Sheathing the poisoned kryss, the Cardinal of the Shadow Crafters lifted up the child from the womans open torso - coddling it with a fatherly love. With a dismissive turn the figure begins his adjent back to the surface of Lakeshire Valley.

In the final wake of the frail meer's existence she gave a last cry; almost a sigh of relief from the pain, as the shadow casters swarmed over her pulling out her inards and her organs - the sickening sluggish sound of entrails being engulfed being the final sound that this meer would make.


~Six Years Later~

"One, two, three!" A little girl, about the age of five, threw a handful of dice on to the ground. Each circular dice was only an inch in diameter and had diffrent numbers etched on each side but one.

It was a simple game, almost every child knew it. The game was even popular in the local taverns as a way of gambling.

The little girl was kneeling beside her older brother. Both of the children were watching intently as the dice came to rest on the cracked-dirt ground.

"I win!" the little girl cried out, "I win!" She jumped up and began to dance around the other two children. They ignored her. Instead, they looked down at the dice in disbelief. Six dice laid on the dirt ground. half of them had landed on the same side, while the remaining landed on the opposite side.

Her older brother muttered under his breath. "I don't believe it." But it was true. He was losing to his sister! Something he didn't like to do.
"Come on, Arakad," Cassandra confidently said. "Your turn."

The little boy picked up each dice one-by-one and held them loosely in his cupped hands. He slowly shook them three times, counting them as he did. "One... two... three."

The dice glistened in the evening light as they fell to the ground.
All the children grew silent.

"YES!" Arakad yelled. "Ha! I win again!" He was the one who was dancing now.

The two girls were staring blankly at the dice. And sure enough, all six dice were on the same side. Cassandra stood up and marched over to her brother. "How did you do that?!"

Arakad ignored her and continued on dancing his victory dance.
"I asked you, 'how did you do that!'" Cassandra made her voice stronger, showing that she wasn't giving in.

"Do what?" He had stopped dancing and was now facing her. They were almost the same height, but Arakad was a couple of inches taller.

"You know what I mean! You enchanted the chips didn't you?" She was now pointing at the sleek, innocent, dice.

A little grin flashed across his lips, but soon disappeared. "No I didn't!"
"Yes you did! There is no way that you could possibly win. Every game that we play, you always win at the end." Cassandra's chubby, little face was lightly flustering with anger.

"Kathrynn was right beside me." Arakad said, trying to defend himself. "She would have known if I did anything to them." Both siblings turned to the little girl who was still sitting beside the game Ring.
"Did you see him do anything?" Cassandra called to her friend.
Kathrynn looked up at them. "No. I didn't see anything strange. He just threw the chips."

"Plus," Arakad added, "I don't know how to do that."

Cassandra was about to say something but was cut off by the sound of another voice. Not just any voice, it was Marcus's.

"What's going on?" he said, as he rounded the corner of the house.
Marcus had just turned eighteen several weeks ago, but he had the authority and respect of an elder, at least from his siblings.

Cassandra was first to speak. "We were playing with the runic stones, and I was going to win but Arakad cheated!" She shot a cold glance at her brother, Arakad.

"Is this true?" Marcus was also looking at his brother.
Arakad struggled for words, "I... I... No. I didn't cheat. She's just a sore loser."

Cassandra appeared to have enough of this. She drew back her little fist and punched her brother in the shoulder. Arakad stumbled a little under the blow, but stood his ground.

"Now who's sore!" yelled Cassandra.

Marcus stepped in, "Okay, okay. That's enough. Go and get washed up. Dinner's almost ready."

Cassandra gave Arakad another cold look as she and her friend headed toward the house. By this time, Arakad was already picking up the dice and placing them back into their violet colored pouch.

Marcus looked down at his little brother. "You did it, didn't you." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah," he quietly muttered, "but it was only because of what you taught me."

The tall, dark haired boy laughed, "But you shouldn't cheat your sister"
"I know. I just didn't want to lose." The little boy hung his head. He didn't like to disappoint his brother.

"Come on. They're probably waiting for us." Marcus began to walk toward the house with Arakad following close behind.

When they reached the cottage, everyone was already eating, except for their father and their middle year old brother, Serge. They had went to the village earlier that day and were due back at any moment.

It was a simple family setup; two parents raising their five children on a little farm. And the only big ordeals to ever threaten their family were the droughts or heavy rains.

Their little cottage sat in the low, rolling serpant mountains of the great land known as Britania, just outside Britain. The land ruled over by the absent King British, and his lords and council. But this far outside of the main city, Unless it's world catastrophic they give the people no cause or care. But without them also their wars and worries don't reach this end. And that is how it has been for years, peaceful and simple. No wars and no serious problems.

Marcus and Arakad entered the main room of the cottage and took their seats at the simple, wooden table. Cassandra didn't even glance over at Arakad. Did she already forget about it? He thought. Probably not.
Their mother, Inachus, placed the last pot of food on the table, a sign that dinner had just started. "Well," she said, "we can't wait for your father and Serge to get back. So, they'll just have to eat left-overs. And that means you all can't gorge yourselves tonight." Everyone at the table showed a sign of agreement with their silence, but the silence was soon broken by the sound of a screaming horse.

Marcus was the first to jump up from his seat and run towards the window. "It's Serge, and it looks like-" He turned to his mother, with eyes wide. "Father's been hurt!"

Inachus rushed over to the door and opened it, allowing Serge and their father, Polis, to enter.

"What happened?" Marcus called out, as Serges' grip gave and Polis collapsed to the wooden floor.

Serge looked up at his older brother with tears in his eyes; tears that were mixed heavily with confusion. "I'm not sure. We were headed back and about a mile from here, when were attacked. I didn't get to see what happened, I only heard something moving in the trees. When I turned to see what it was, I saw father leaning forward in his saddle. I asked him what was wrong, and that was when I saw the blood."

Inachus removed Polis's tense hands from his chest, allowing the full extent of his wounds to be seen. They appeared to be claw marks running deep from his chest to his stomach, they penetrated his armor completely. Thick padded leather that not even the sharpest arrow was able to pierce.

"Don't worry," Polis said, with a slight flutter in his voice, "I'll be alright. It just looks bad, that's all." He raised one of his blood covered hands up to his wife's face.

"What's wrong with daddy?" Cassandra's tiny voice broke the short silence that seemed to consume everyone.

"Nothing's wrong with him." Marcus made his way over to his little sister who was standing on her seat. "Father we'll be fine." He picked up his sister and held her close.

"Do you think it was a wolf?" Marcus continued, as he tried to comfort his sister at the same time. Wolves were known to cross the border and attack anyone they could find. But the border was nearly a hundred miles away.

"I don't think so," Serge replied, "I know wolves are fast, but this was too fast, to human-like. Plus, the horses would have been startled if there was one."

Silence seemed to envelop the room once again. Several heart beats passed before anyone dared to speak.

It was Inachus who spoke. "Serge, I want you to take Arakad and Cassandra to the back room, and don't let them come in here, Kathrynn followed justly. Marcus, shut the door and help me with your father. We need to get him cleaned up as soon as possible." The two brothers agreed and began to follow her orders.

Serge calmly ushered his little brother and the girls into the back room, closing the door behind him.

Marcus made his way over to the front door and started to close it.
WHAM!

The door went in the opposite direction, sending Marcus crashing into the wall with a dull thud. He looked up to see tall man standing over his father. The man was wearing black clothes, a strange tribal mask and a long, black cloak, and everything about him reeked of evil.

Marcus had never seen anyone killed before. But that all was going to change as he saw a long, glistening object being raised in front of the standing man, and then thrusted down into the depths of his father's chest. Marcus continued to watch in horror as the blade was now being twisted. The scraping sound of metal against bone could now be heard by everyone in the room.

“Nooooo! FATHER!"Marcus's own words were deafening his ears. He stood up and charged at the man, trying to knock him down to the floor. But it wasn't to be. Marcus found himself meeting a rock-hard fist instead. The force of the blow sent him to the floor once again.

The man pulled the sword out from Polis's body, then closed the door, locking it as well. He knelt down beside Inachus, who was now staring wide-eyed at the dead man in her arms, and began to brush her long, auburn hair off her shoulders.

"Don't you dare touch my mother!" Marcus was on his feet once more, challenging the intruder.

And the challenge was met.

The man rushed over toward the boy, pushing him against the wall.
Marcus caught a glimpse of the many blades he was carrying. He saw, in all, two diffrent swords and three daggers. Then it dawned on him. This man wasn't here by accident - he planned it.

The intruder grabbed one of the daggers and buried it deep into Marcus's shoulder, pinning him to the wall.

Marcus wanted to yell out in pain, but he couldn't. Serge and the other's would come out here to see what is going on, and I can't let them get hurt.

Serge knew that he heard Marcus yell something, but he couldn't go out there. His place was in here, watching over his siblings. But what if they need his help? No! I have to stay here, he told himself. I promised mother.

He looked over at Cassandra and Kathrynn, who were sitting on one of the beds. They were talking casually as if they didn't know what was truly happening. Arakad, on the other hand, remained quiet and kept his eyes on the door.

"Is daddy going to be alright?" Cassandra said, as she walked over to Serge who was sitting on a dark, oak chair and appeared to be more quiet than Arakad.

He looked at his little sister and placed a hand on top of her head. "He'll be fine. I'm sure of it." Serge told her these words, but in someway, he was trying to reassure himself.

Cassandra went back to where Kathrynn sat, and continued to quietly talk with her.

It wasn't but a few minutes later that a loud scream came from the main room. It was their mother.

Serge jumped up and rushed for the door, forgetting about his siblings for a brief moment. Before he opened the door, he turned to Arakad. "I need you to stay here and watch over the girls. Can you do that?" His brother nodded, showing that he agreed. This gave Serge the opportunity to see what was going on in the main room.

He quickly opened the door far enough just to fit through. Serge planned to close it behind him, but the sight of his brother, Marcus, pinned to the wall, made him forget the door. He rushed over to Marcus, unaware of the danger that had just caught sight of him.

"Marcus! What happened?" he choked out, as his eyes dropped down to the hilt of a dagger that stuck out from his brother's blood soaked shoulder.

Marcus looked at Serge with pain in his eyes. "You must get the kids out of here. Do it now!"

Serge just stared at him.

"Do you understand?! Get them out of here!" Marcus's eyes were no longer on Serge, but on the danger that was headed their way. "GO!" Marcus pushed his younger brother out of the way, allowing the killer's sword to penetrate his flesh instead of Serge.

Serge was in complete horror. He didn't even see the man in the room. His eyes grew wide as he watched the blade disappear into his brother's abdomen.

"Get... out." Marcus's words became caught on the blood that was rising in his throat and out of his mouth.

Serge didn't move. He was too stricken with fear to come up with a complete thought or the strength to run.

And what of his mother? He had heard her scream earlier. Where was she? That question wasn't going to be answered right now.

After catching his breath, Serge began to inch away from the man who was now pulling the sword out of Marcus's dying body. The frightened boy turned toward the open door, only to see Arakad standing there. Had he seen what just took place? Serge didn't know. Instead of dwelling on that present thought, he had to do what Marcus wanted. This was no place to be.

Serge rushed over to his little brother. He placed his arms around him and picked him up.

And that was when he heard it.

It was a fluttering, whistle-like sound. The sound of a dagger twirling through the air.

Then came the pain.

It started in the middle of his back and moved throughout his entire body.

With the growing pain coming from the violating blade, Serge began to lose his strength, causing Arakad to slip out of his hands and onto the hard floor.

The little boy's voice rang out in a small cry. "Serge?"

By this time, Cassandra and Kathrynn were aware that something exciting was going on in the main room, and seemed to be attracted to it like a moth to a flame.

Serge looked at Arakad, and with pain in his eyes, he reached around his back and pulled out the dagger. The blade slipped out from his fingers and onto the floor. It was the same dagger that held Marcus to the wall.
Arakad stared up at his brother. "Serge? Are you..."

But before Serge could form any words, Arakad saw a long, slim blade of a sword, a cutless, rip through his brother's chest as if his skin and clothes were made from the finest silk.

Arakad gasped as he watched in horror as his brother was lifted into the air and flung onto the dinner table, sending the food and drinks crashing to the floor.

Cassandra and Kathrynn began to scream. They had just witnessed the death of their brother, and now their very own lives were in jeopardy, as well as Arakad's. Then they saw her.

Their mother was sitting by the fireplace, curled tightly in a fetal position and hugging her knees close to her chest. But something wasn't right. Her long, auburn hair was almost completely gone, but it wasn't cut off... she was scalped. Her bright, red blood covered most of her face and drenched the entire front of her dress.

Arakad only glanced at his mother; he was more interested in the man who threatened the sanctity of his family. Cassandra and Kathrynn, on the other hand, rushed over to their mother's side, with tears in their eyes.

The tall man towered over the little boy. Arakad didn't move. Instead, he watched as the man raised his sword high into the air, readying for a deadly swing. But Arakad wasn't completely vulnerable.

The boy reached down and grabbed the bloody dagger that aided in the death of his brothers, and thrusted it deep into the man's stomach. Arakad didn't have that much strength, but the sharpness of the blade made the wound fairly deep.

Not pain, but anger seemed to fill the man's entire being. The man lowered his weapon and stared at the child in disbelief. He had been injured by a boy - a six year old boy!

Arakad stared back. A stare that made him feel as if he were as tall as the intruder. But the intruder wasn't in the mood for games. He grabbed one of the boy's wrists and threw him in the direction of his mother and the girls.

Arakad had heard his wrist snap and felt the numbing pain that soon followed. But that was something he had to worry about later.
Their mother, Inachus, appeared to be out of her incoherent state and was now holding tightly onto her remaining children.

This short break in action allowed Arakad to fully see the face of their attacker. He didn't look like any monster or hideous creature; instead, he looked like a regular man with wild, short, dark hair and a tattoo, or was it a scar, that ran long ways over the bridge of his nose, from cheek to cheek, it almost glowed with a blue hue. And when the man spoke, his voice was neither a growl or a hiss. He sounded normal.

"I see that we have a little hero in our midst. Something that I will deal with right now." The man pulled the dagger out of his stomach and unsheathed his second sword after tossing his other one to the side. This sword appeared to be a scimitar with the classic, elegant curving blade and a crescent-shaped, golden hilt.

He placed the tip of the blade under the boy's chin and began to apply pressure.

CRASH!
A ceramic, serving plate smashed against the head of the intruder. The blow would have caused any normal human to fall to the ground in pain, but something was different about this man.

When the tall man turned around, Arakad could see that it was his brother, Serge who had hit him. Serge! Arakad wanted to yell. You're alive!

The intruder didn't give Serge anytime to defend himself. He twisted around and pushed the boy against a nearby wall.

It was a cold feeling as the sharp blade ran from ear to ear under Serges' neck. Adding insult to injury, the man quickly sheathed the dagger and took a step back, then rammed his fist into the nape of Serge' blood covered neck.

His body collapsed to the floor, with his eyes locked on Arakad's. Serge smiled at his little brother, then inhaled his last breath.
And that was it.

The man kneeled beside Serge' body and used the boy's shirt to whipe the blood off of his blade.

Arakad didn't have much time to come up with a plan, all he thought about was saving his the girls and his mother.

A pitcher! He had spotted an over turned pitcher that was once on the dinner table. Arakad grabbed the pitcher with his good hand and brought it close to his little body.

It was a simple trick with hot ash and a few inaudible words, that Marcus once taught him; a trick that might hopefully save his life.

Arakad placed his hand inside the pitcher and into the remaining liquor that didn't spill out. He concentrated on the water, imagining that its temperature was rising and quickly applying the proper methods. And it was.

"Now," the man said, "where were we? Ah, yes! Little hero, I do believe that it is your turn." The intruder was now standing over the black haired boy. He grabbed the 'old' dagger, the one that Arakad had used on him, and readied it for the kill. But again, the man was stopped.

Arakad had tossed the pitcher upward, sending the blistering liquid onto the man. Most of the water landed on his clothes, and not his face. But it was a gallant effort.

Anger flashed across the man's face. "That's it! It's time that I cut out this thorn in my side."

Arakad saw the dagger coming toward his face, thats when he closed his eyes in fear. But when the blade failed to meet his flesh, he opened his eyes to see another man standing beside the intruder. He was holding onto the man's hand that held the dagger.

The new man wasn't as tall as the intruder, but it appeared that this man was the real person in charge. He was dressed in black and his hair was as white as his flesh. But it was his eyes that Arakad first noticed. They were the brightest yellow he had ever seen. No, they weren't yellow, but a liquid gold.

Then he spoke in a soft, controlled voice.

"I want you to let this one live. You may kill the rest, but he is to live." The man released the intruder's wrist.

Arakad stared at the new man. There was something else he noticed about him, it was the beads that he wore in his long, white hair.
They were something that a mage wore. The more beads, the higher rank in the guild. Marcus had mentioned them to him several times before, but he had never imagined that he would see them. But something else was different. Shadow Caster beads were red, these were blue. He's a necromancer of the guild. Arakad concluded. But why would a sorcerer hire an assassin?

The sorcerer was speaking again. "Finish up here and bring the boy back with you. I don't care what you do with him, just as long as he remains alive."

The intruder bowed, showing that he agreed fully to his master's wishes. "As you wish."

"Good." The sorcerer glanced over at the little girls who were huddled with their mother. "Make it fast." And with that, he vanished from the room.

The intruder looked back at the frightened girls and spoke, "So it is said; so it shall be done." He thrusted his sabre forward, into Inachus's throat and gave it a quick twist.

Cassandra and Kathrynn both stood up and ran for the door. Arakad followed, as well.

Kathrynn was the first of the remaining children to feel the deadly blow from the intruder's sword. Arakad had looked back to see if she was alright, but all he saw was Kathrynn's headless body.

Fast.
Too fast.

Cassandra reached the door first and began to pull on the handle.
Locked.

Try as they may, but the lock was out of their reach.
Arakad grabbed Cassandra and held her tight. He thought that if he was to remain alive, then Cassandra wouldn't get hurt if he held her close.
It seemed like a good idea, but the intruder was prepared for it.
He thrusted the sword into the little girl's shoulder and pushed it on through, until it too, ran through Arakad's shoulder. They were pinned together on the sword; brother and sister.

Earlier that evening, Cassandra had punched that same shoulder in a fit of anger. And now they held each other in fear and pain.

The intruder gripped the sword's handle with both hands and brought his foot up to Arakad's impaled shoulder. He then quickly kicked the boy off the blade, leaving Cassandra still impaled on its blood drenched length. He rose the sword up into the air.

Arakad watched in horror as Cassandra's body hung helplessly on the blade. The little girl wrapped her tiny fingers around the blade as if trying to push it out. But it was a fruitless effort.

The man titled the sword downward, allowing her body to slide off and onto the floor, landing beside her brother.

She looked up into his eyes and smiled. "Thank you, Arakad. Thank you for trying to save me."

Arakad extended a shaky hand toward his sister's face. "I'm sorry."
THUNK!

The sword found its mark in Cassandra's chest.
"No! Cassy!" Arakad screamed. He looked at his sister with tears in his eyes, and threw his body over hers. "Don't leave me! Please! You're all I have left."

She smiled once more, then closed her eyes.
The man kicked the little boy off of his sister. "My orders were simple." He said. "To destroy the last of this families bloodline. But not completely destroy. My master needs you alive for the main event." He was now placing all of his blades back into their sheaths, save the one that Arakad used to wound him earlier. "But before we go, I want to teach you a lesson in respect."

Arakad swallowed deep as he saw the man kneel down with the dagger in his hand. The boy had no idea what was in store for him.

"Give me your hand."
The boy hesitated, but did as he was told.
The man pushed back Arakad's sleeve and began to cut into his soft flesh, leaving a long mark spiraling around his arm, the blade following along feintly noticable birth marks of veins beneath the childs skin, cuting from from elbow to wrist - his broken wrist.

Arakad stifled his cries and concentrated on one thing; how he was going to escape.

The man finished cutting on his wrist and grabbed the boy by his throat. "You will learn to respect pain than fear it." He was now slicing on the boy's chest, The dagger easily went through the fabric and onto the flesh, scarring him there, each cut of the blade seemed to cause a spark of flame upon the boy's skin. He gripped Arakad's throat tighter as he brought the blade up to his left eye.

The man spoke as he began to cut into the boy's skin once more. "'X' marks the spot." What remained was a bleeding spiral over the boy's eye.

Arakad kept his eyes tightly shut.
Arakad yelled in pain like he had never yelled before. Help Me! his mind yelled. Help me, someone! He was yelling beyond the strength of his mind. He was yelling with his entire being.

As if an answer to his silent pleas, the man was mysteriously thrown off of him.

Arakad opened his good eye to see a tall, dark red haired man standing in the room with them.

Then the man spoke. "Tell your master that this boy isn't owned by anyone, and as long as there is breath in my body, he will never aid in any of his dark wishes."

A sneer and then a smirk appeared on the intruder's thin lips
The dark red haired man walked over to the battered boy and kneeled down beside him. He then placed a strong hand on the boy's good shoulder.

A warm light surrounded the two as a moongate formed behind them, then quickly the two disappeared within. Leaving Arakad with dreams of a thin fair skinned red haird man, and a familiar Kryss at the mans waist.