Chapter I, pt 1

Alvin, a lone scythewielder, was found by a mysterious man hailing from the monarchy. Little does he know that the man has been keeping tabs on him for quite a while...

Wait Alvin, wait. Do not rush in like a maniac. Let it come to you.

He patiently waited in the endless featureless deserts of snow, save the occasional pine tree. Alvin knew the enemy was near, his cold blue eyes scanning the horizon. Wait for the enemy. Do not attack it until it attacks you. Hunting like this alone was what he liked to do in his spare time. While others rushed in, swords swinging, spears stabbing, clubs bashing, he preferred to hang back and do his work. Rather like a patron of the arcane, his friends had said about him.

Alvin was about to take a step closer when he noticed a small breeze, taking his rather long black hair with it. This was the signal he was waiting for. He took hold of a rod behind his back and drew it out of his navy blue cloak to reveal a large scythe, the blade intricately embedded with sapphire. Not long after came a huge blast of wind. This is the time, he thought. Alvin quickly brandished his scythe and looked up. There stood a giant snow white dragon, almost unanimous with the snowfield, it’s wings streaked with light blue shards. Alvin focused his sight on the shards. That was what I was here for, he thought when the dragon raised its icy claws and swiped down. Alvin only had time to mutter “Oh dear,” before it struck.

He only had mere hundredths of a second to dart out of the way. As he was mid-dash, one of the dragon’s claws scraped the back of his neck. Alvin covered his wound and waited for the dragon to strike again. Ok, jump back, run up its claws and aim for the neck. When the dragon’s claws struck the snow a second time, Alvin took the chance and leaped onto its arm. The icy beast’s snow white eyes made contact with him. He saw some patterns in its glare, the center of its eyes switching from a triangle, then a square, then a circle. This is bad. I need to end him now or I’m a dead man. As the dragon raised its head Alvin dashed into its neck. His scythe pierced up through the monster’s jaws as the dragon roared deafeningly. He launched upwards from the momentum and, with the scythe still hooked to the dragon’s head, flicked it upwards. The scythewielder fell and impacted the ground, his blade crimson red with blood, as well as his cloak. The head of the slain dragon lay beside him.

That was exhausting, he thought to himself. He leaned back onto the dragon head and rest there. Alvin looked around him to see nothing but endless snowfields, with a few mountains in the distance. His home was eons of carriage away and he has no relatives to live with. No one who’s alive, anyway. Alvin took out his scythe, still red with blood, and saw something engraved on it. His otherwise frozen heart felt a tinge of warmth. Alvin sighed. Really needed that old wound opened up again, he thought. He then turned his attention to the shards on the dragon’s wings. Alvin snapped a shard off the wing and closely examined it. It was light blue and translucent, almost like ice. Then again, that makes sense, he reasoned. He took a few more of these shards and put them in his cloak. It’s about time I headed back, he thought, just when he heard the sound of galloping.

Suspicious, Alvin raised his scythe in a defensive stance. The galloping became more apparent and loud. Not long after he saw a carriage pulled by a white horse. It soon became apparent who was inside the carriage. The purple carriage bordered by white, the ornate shape, it was obvious that royalty was in that carriage. Why is the monarchy out here? Only a few people know about these plains and I’m the only one in the immediate vicinity. The carriage stopped near the blue figure and the slain dragon. A man dressed in purple robes stepped out, carrying a staff topped with a purple gem. He looked at Alvin and then the disembodied head of the elder dragon. The man’s eyes were a mixture of disbelief and impression.

“Did you kill that thing?” the man asked the scythe wielder. Alvin was confused for a second before simply replying “Yes”.

“First of all I want to congratulate you on doing that,” the man replied. “It normally takes around 6 people to defeat a dragon, especially an elder.”

“I’m honored.” Alvin noticed a book with a pentagram circumscribed by a circle in the man’s robes. A mage…

“However that was not my intention on coming here.” The man leaned closer. “What I’m about to tell you must be kept quiet about, Alvin.”

Huh? He knows my name?

“I’ll talk to you when we arrive back at Atdlt, the capital. For now, come in. You must be freezing.”

The man welcomed Alvin into the carriage. He noted the massive proliferation of rare materials and craftsmanship; even the blandest section still featured masterwork embroidery. He stepped in and sat down on an ornate chair decorated with gems. The man sat on another such chair adjacent to his, taking a goblet while doing so. Not long after Alvin noticed the carriage rocking mildly back and forth. Where are we going?

After a rather long pause, Alvin asked the man. “So why am I here?” .

“Now, I don’t want to drag this on forever, so let’s keep this short.” The man took a sip from his goblet and resumed. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you for quite a while now.”

Alvin raised an eyebrow. “Why would you want to pay attention to a normal person?”

“Because you are anything but normal. I know that you’ve honed your skills as a scythewielder to an ungodly level in the wild. Able to decapitate an elder dragon in one fell swoop, like you demonstrated just then.”

“Where is this going?” Alvin put his hand near the rod protruding from his back.

“Oh, you’ll see,” the man smiled. “You’ll see.”

The chariot galloped away, leaving a trail of mist in its wake.