Forty years ago, the goddess of chaos, Pandora, unleashed her fury upon the land of Tyron, killing crops and livestock, poisoning the water, brewing hate and despair among the people. Soon, the mortals of Tyron took a stand. Of four kingdoms, each would assemble an army comprised of elite soldiers, headed by their powerful generals.

    To the east with the greatest archers and most cunning strategists, the forest kingdom of Vel assembled a great army of rangers, headed by Suron, their queen of tactics. Along with her cunning instincts and her sharp intellect, she was said to be the most beautiful woman of all Tyron.

    From the south, the mountainous kingdom of Argoth assembled a great army of the most hardened sentinels. With enormous numbers and the most terrifying weapons, Argoth's army was commanded by the great Arycas, otherwise known as the Lightning Lance. Arycas was said to be the youngest of the generals, only eighteen at the time. Despite his age, however, he was the greatest warrior of all Tyron. Mastering every weapon in the Argoth armory, he was capable of taking on an army of one thousand, with just his lance.

    From the plains of the west, Synthos, the kingdom of scholars, brought forth an army of mages. With the knowledge of magic and power of the elements, these mages were a great force to be reckoned. At their head was Zelf, an old, wise man, with the power to make mountains quake, oceans rise and forests grow to tremendous heights.

    Lastly, the north was home to the swamp lands of Nyr, the kingdom of the dark. Curses, toxins, thievery and all things malicious called Nyr home. Nyr brought forth a great army of rogues. Leading this army was Krim, a master of biological warfare and dirty tactics.

    Seeing the courage and vigor of these warriors, the god of life Miyosh bestowed upon them a magic box, with a message; whoever is strong enough to defeat Pandora's army and march into her lair, could seal her into the box. Once Pandora was sealed, Miyosh promised to restore the land of Tyron to its former glory. But, if the warriors were to fail, the land of Tyron would be lost and Pandora would be free to recreate it in her own image. Death would plague the land and her evil minions would roam free while mankind would be enslaved, cast into chains and made to work for the evil goddess.

    So, the kingdoms declared war and fought their way to the center of Tyron where Pandora's lair sat atop a mountain of bones and the ashes of the long dead. Her army of undead met the army of mortals in a grueling strife. Squadron upon squadron charged headlong into the battle as casualties steadily rose, approaching the thousands; but with bravery and determination, the armies encroached upon Pandora's lair. When all seemed won, and the kingdoms thought that they could finally end the war, Pandora turned the tables. To the kingdom of Nyr and it's general Krim, she promised power, wealth and a life fit for a god so long as they pledged loyalty and fought under her. With gold in their eyes and a promising future on the horizon, Krim and his army turned on it's allies in a bloody and devastating betrayal.

    The night before the final battle, they struck. Burning camps, and killing soldiers whilst they slept, the army of Nyr laid waste to their once comrades. During the attack, however, the army of Argoth managed to retaliate. Arycas, outnumbered, led his army and any other survivors in retreat, fleeing from the burning wreckage, killing whatever Nyr soldier they came across. When dawn broke, the armies were decimated; camps were burnt to ash, the soldiers lay dead in a sea of blood and morale was shattered. The dead outweighed the living, and the only surviving general was the Lightning Lance, Arycas. Clutching Pandora's box with shaking fists and a head full of rage and anguish, he buried his fallen comrades. As tears rolled down his face, he vowed vengeance against Pandora and against the Nyr. He solemnly swore to himself, his late comrades and his surrounding soldiers, that they would bring an end to Pandora and lay waste to the Nyr.

    The kingdoms of Argoth, Vel and Synthos convened into one council known as the Great Trinity. They devised a plan to combine the weapons and might of Argoth, the tactics of Vel and the wisdom and magic of Synthos to create a powerful army, ready to take on any threat. At the head of this new-found force, was Arycas, now versed in the ways of all three kingdoms and with a bright, burning fire in his eyes.

    A year passed; with a newly forged army, and a fiery passion, Arycas led his troops into battle. Swiftly and devastatingly, the army of the Great Trinity fell upon Pandora's army and the troops of Nyr. Arycas crushed thousands, striking with his massive lance and striking down enemies with his new-found magic prowess. His kill count rose into the thousands as he stained the battlefield with the blood of his enemies.

    Soon enough, his army approached the base of Mount Netherfall, the home of Pandora and the new king of Nyr, Krim the Traitor. Arycas and Krim's army laid into each other, but Krim was not prepared for his opponents might. His army was quickly crushed, and he himself soon fell to the might of the Lightning Lance, Arycas. Once Arycas defeated Krim, there was no stopping. Tired, wounded, but still confident, he led his army into Pandora's lair and sealed her and her evil army into Miyosh's box. With her parting words, Pandora swore vengeance on Arycas, the Great Trinity and the entirety of Tyron, vowing to return one day to lay waste to the realm and to reap the souls of anyone who dare stand in her way.

    From the waste of Mount Netherfall and all over Tyron, the goddess Miyosh kept her promise, and restored the land of Tyron to it's former glory. Arycas was named Arycas the Blood Lance, Champion of Netherfall by the Great Trinity. The three kingdoms converged into one massive realm called Arrago. Soon enough, Arycas founded the village of Trell in-between the forests of Vel and the Mountains of Argoth. And they all lived, happily ever after, the end.

    "And that, children, was the tale of the War of Netherfall,"Master Crow finished. The group of children surrounding the crackling camp fire sat open mouthed in awe.

    "Tell it again Master Crow!" One said, wide eyed.

    "More! What happened the the Nyr of the north? Did Miyosh smite them with her awesome power? Did Arycas slaughter them all? Tell us, Master Crow!"

    Crow laughed and threw a twig into the dying fire, "perhaps another day, child." He got up from his log and stretched his old legs, then put out the fire. The children replied with a disapproving groan in unison. "Now now, don't be upset; there are plenty more stories where that came from." Crow looked up into the full moon, crossing his arms and letting out a deep sigh. He stroked his graying beard and looked at the now disappointed children, "Maybe next time I'll tell you about the great dragon and the Beast Slayer from the land of Tor."

    A child of eight, Sam, looked up with excitement, "Tor? The place across the great water to the east?"

    Crow winked, "Of course, child. But for now, off to bed! It's already late and your parents will be wroth with me."

    "Yes, Master Crow," they replied in unison. The children left, reluctantly dragging their feet as they returned to their homes.

    Master Crow looked on into the shadows, "Enjoy the story, lad?" From the shadow of night emerged a youth of fifteen, not too tall, but not too short; long brown hair fell over his shoulders. He was clad in simple garb, a leather vest over a white tunic with brown breeches and leather boots. His blue eyes reflected the moonlight in the most peculiar way.

    "I'm no fan of folk tales, old man, especially ones about false heroes," Theo said, "and when are you gonna wash those old robes? They stink of booze and look like they've been dragged through the mud by Pandora's hounds."

    "Arycas is no false hero, no matter what grudge you hold against him, lad. And these are no folk tales, it is your history and you'd do best to learn it," Crow replied.

    "Because those who do not learn of their history, are doomed to repeat it," they both said in unison. Theo gave a mocking smirk.

    "Shouldn't you be home, lad? Don't worry your mother anymore than you already do; with your father gone-"

    "You don't have to remind me!" Theo yelled, perhaps too loudly. A flock of birds retreated from their nests overhead, and silence soon permeated the atmosphere.

    "I didn't mean to deepen fresh wounds, boy," the old man said, "what happened to your father was a loss for the entire village. Even if Arycas had been here, I don't think-"

    "I don't want to talk about it," Theo exclaimed, fighting back the tears, "look, the only reason I'm out here is because my mother wanted to invite you to supper. So just shut up and stop trying to pry into my life!"

    Crow could see the pain in Theodore's eyes. It was a fresh pain, one that hadn't been given time to heal just yet. Though the accident happened just a year ago, to Theodore it was just yesterday when his father was taken from them and the entire village. Theodore's father, Simon, was a great farmer and an even greater man. He taught the children to care for crops and livestock, and listened to the woes of the old and young. He was a figure of great admiration to the entire village and his life was dedicated to helping the people of Trell.

    "I'm sorry, lad," Crow apologized, "and of course I'll join you."

    "Fine," Theo said, wiping at his eyes, "mother made stew, so be sure to thank her!" Theo started off in the other direction, through the bushes and trees.

    "I'll be sure too," Crow whispered to himself. He snuffed out the remaining cinders of the fire with his tall staff and proceeded through the brush with Theo.

    The village of Trell was located in a forested mountain-top in the eastern part of Arrago. Just west of the village past a thicket of trees was a cliffside where the village priest and scholar, Master Caravus Crow, would teach the children of Trell the religion of Miyosh and the history of Arrago and Tyron.

    Even at night, Trell was a bustling village of fun and laughter. The children would laugh and play while their parents worked on the crops and livestock until nightfall. Then, village men would sit around a large fire, drinking ale and recalling tales of adventure from their youth while the wives would sit inside, tucking in their children and sewing new clothing or blankets. At the center of the village lied the Temple of Miyosh where Master Crow dwelled. To the very right of this temple was a large stone cottage, with a brick chimney patched with mud and stone. This is where Theodore, our hero, calls home.

 

2: Chapter 2: Fresh Wounds

 It was said, in the village of Trell, that the home of Theodore Arcvell was the humblest of all Arrago. Whether that was true or not, could be debated by many. However, there was no question that Theo's home was one of grace and elegance that befit his reputation. As the son of the great Simon Arcvell, Theo was well versed in agriculture, more-so than perhaps half the village of Trell. This knowledge manifest itself in the beautiful blue and yellow flowers surrounding the cottage, giving it a warming, welcoming radiance. However, the Arcvell family were no architects or stone masons, nor would you find any in Trell in this day and age. So, whenever a part of the cottage was in need of repair, they would crudely patch up the blemishes as best they could, distracting the gaze of onlookers who would awkwardly stare at the cracked windows and the patchwork rock placed between carefully lain bricks of the chimney, with the most gorgeous of flowers.

 

From outside the cottage, you could smell the wonderful scent of Alicia Arcvell's stew, for where she lacked a green thumb, she was born with the ability to cook as well as any trained chef. “Mother, I'm home,” Theo cried as he walked in the door, making his way to the dining room right outside the kitchen he took in the scent of freshly made supper, “and I brought the Old Crow with me like you asked.” The interior of the Arcvell's cottage was simple, yet elegant in its own right. A shabby, but colorful rug, which laid over-top a wooden floor also crudely patched, welcomed in visitors from the outside, leading them to the dining room where supper was held. To the right of that room was a cramped little kitchen hardly big enough to fit three people snugly. The far left branched off into corridors lined with torch sconces, leading to each Arcvell's respective room. The home was dimly lit, and didn't offer much in the way of extravagance.

 

Caravus Crow gingerly wiped his sandals before entering, “How nice of you to invite me to dinner Mrs. Arcvell. I wondered when next it would be that I would be blessed by your famous cooking!”

 

Alicia Arcvell, a sleek, fair woman in her late forties, stepped out of the kitchen wearing a stained apron over-top a simple brown dress. As to not get in her way, her long dark brown locks were tied into a neat braid that reached the small of her back. A smile crept across her tired face and her blue eyes held a warmness that only a mother could possess, “Caravus, I'm so glad you could come.” She looked at her son and sighed, “Theodore Arcvell, how many times have I told you to wipe your feet before coming inside from the woods! You're like to track all sorts of things through my neatly swept house! And mind your manners, Master Crow is a great man!” Her voice was thick with the eastern accent you would once find in this region. However, since the converging of the kingdoms, all dialects and accents were either lost or had slowly turned into one massive dialect among the common people of Arrago.

 

“Pay the young one no mind Alicia,” Caravus began, “he means no harm. Right Theodore?”

 

Theo gave a huff before kicking off his boots and sitting at the table, “Sure old man. Mom is supper almost ready? I'm famished.” Theo rubbed his empty stomach, “I worked up quite the appetite in the fields today.”

 

Alicia raised a suspicious brow, “Did ya now, lad?” Alicia set three bowls filled to the brim with piping hot stew onto the dinner table, “Because last time I checked, sleeping in a wheelbarrow didn't require much energy.”

 

Theo averted his eyes to the closest wall and proceeded to stare at it, embarrassed and caught in his own lie. “I swear Theo, you're too lazy sometimes,” his mother said, ushering Crow to sit as she did so herself, “If you don't tend to the crops, how are we gonna harvest anything come autumn?” She stretched out her arms, joining hands with Caravus and waiting for Theo to join in. Reluctantly he reached out, joining his with his mothers and the old scholar.

 

“We thank the graceful god Miyosh for this humbling meal, may she watch over us, heal us, and continue to bless our land with fertile soil, and healthy livestock,” they all said in unison. The three released each others hands and began eating their supper.

 

“Delicious as always, Alicia,” Caravus commented.

 

“Why thank you Caravus, I use the finest ingredients,” she replied with a smile. She looked over at Theo who was quietly eating. “How is it, son?”

 

He mumbled, “It's good.”

 

“I could make it more often if you'd actually do your chores,” she began, “with your father gone, you're the only one to work the fields, and without you their will be no food. Let alone ingredients for stew.”

 

“You don't have to remind me!” Theo yelled, slamming his fist into the table. His eyes darted back and forth between the surprised and fearful expressions of Crow and his mother. “I-I’m sorry. I didn't mean to shout.”

 

“It's alright lad,” Caravus replied with a gentle tone and a comforting smile, “we all miss him.”

 

“It's just that,” Theo struggled to find the words, “it's all so boring! I want something exciting to happen! I want to adventure and see the world!”

 

“Theo the world isn't as bright and full of exciting adventure as you think,” Alicia said, “everyone must do their part to make the world work. There are no more soldiers fighting a great evil, no more reason to go to war or to slay monsters. Arycas took care of all that many years ago.”

 

“The only thing that old clod did for me was ruin my life!” Theo yelled, getting up from his seat.

 

“Now lad, that man is the sole reason you aren't in chains right now,” Caravus retorted, “without him we'd all either be enslaved under Pandora's minions or worse.”

 

“Without him,” Theo began, tears welling in his eyes, “my father would still be with us!”

 

“You don't know that, Theodore!” Alicia said, “Nobody does. Not you, not me, nor Caravus. Nobody could have foresaw what would happen to your father.”

“What happened to Simon was a great tragedy, Theodore, one I hope to never witness again, nor would I wish upon anyone else.” Caravus said, attempting to soothe the boy.

 

“No,” Theo said, trembling, hands balled into shaking fists, holding back a great rage, “no, that miserable old drunk Arycas killed him the moment he decided not to return. He promised he'd be back. He promised he would return. But he didn't and still hasn't. Nor will he ever! Good riddance to that old coward!”

 

Theo pushed over his chair and bolted for his room, slamming the door shut and shaking the cottage. “Caravus,” Alicia said, staring into her now cold stew, “I'm apologize for his behavior. He doesn't mean any of that, I promise you.”

 

Crow sighed, “You and I both know that he does, Alicia.” The old man looked off towards Theo's room. “And perhaps he's right,” he began, “Arycas never returned. And perhaps if he had, Simon would still be...” He stopped. She was fighting so hard to fight the tears, but they were slipping through the cracks. Alicia's tears ran down her face, crashing onto the table. She rubbed at her eyes but that only made it worse.

 

“Caravus,” she began, “would it be wrong, if I hated him too? If I blamed him for my one and only love no longer being with me?”

“No,” he replied, placing a wrinkled hand onto her shoulder, “you wouldn't be wrong in the slightest.” She got up from her chair and buried her face into his neck, crying onto his shoulder. He placed his arms around her and shed a tear himself, for maybe he too blamed the great Arycas for the death of his one and only nephew.

3: Chapter 3: What does your soul crave?

Author Note: I really didn't want to leave this chapter so short, but with life demanding so much from me lately, I have no choice. It's already been a week since my last update and I didn't wish to let it go any longer. So, I hope you enjoy this short chapter, I'll try and write more in whatever free time I have.

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Theodore had cried himself to sleep that night. Overwhelmed with emotions, there was nothing left to do besides bury his tear stained face into his pillow and hope that sleep soon took him.

Sleep did indeed soon find its way to Theo, but it took him to a very different place.

He awoke in a black space, not knowing where he was. Is this a dream? He thought. He tried calling out, but the void swallowed his words. All around him was black, yet he could clearly see himself. Then, as if coming from all around him, a woman's laughter rang out. It sent chills down his spine, and put fear into his chest.

"Who's there?" He asked the void.

"Poor, poor little Theodore," the voice replied softly, almost whispering, "what is it that you want in life?"

The void exploded into a sea of colors, and the next thing he knew, he was sitting on a throne fashioned from gold coins. The throne sat in it's own ocean of coins and valuable items. Atop his head was a gold crown inlaid with rubies, sapphires and emeralds. His fingers were adorned with rings of gold and various precious stones. "Is it wealth you seek?" The voice asked. "They say that wealth cannot buy happiness; but those who say that have never tasted the riches this world has to offer." Theo looked around himself confusedly.

"Is it power that you desire, young Theodore?" She asked. This time, the gold was sucked into a whirlpool, then melded together and spit back out. Theo now found himself on a great balcony, hundreds of feet in the air and overlooking a massive gathering of people. They all bowed, calling his name. All hail the great Theodore! Do you wish to rule your own Kingdom? To have everyone bow to you, chanting your name and worshiping you like a god?" Then, the void sucked the scene back in.

The voice whispered directly into his ear now, "Or is it women? The most beautiful women in Arrago." Theo now sat in a chair with his feet propped up onto a cushion, and the most gorgeous women surrounding him, giggling his name in a playful manner. "What man doesn't want beautiful women, power and money?"

"I do not wish for any of that!" Theo yelled.

"No," she replied, "of course not." Now, the voice materialized, taking the form of a tall, perfectly hourglass shaped woman. Her black hair fell to her ankles, and her dark purple skin glistened despite a lack of light source. She wore a black dress that barely covered her bodice, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Her eyes glowed a bright, icy blue that seemed to stare deep into Theodore's soul. She would have been the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, however, something about her emanated pure darkness.

Slowly, her hips swayed as she walked over to Theo. Placing a soft hand under his chin, she slowly and gently ran a finger across the frame of his face while walking around him, almost as if she were surveying him. She giggled to herself, almost malevolently. From behind him, she draped her arms around his neck and whispered into his ear, "I know what your soul craves." She had the softest voice, almost akin to his mother, but there was a lining of evil in this woman's tone.

"Who are you?" Theo asked turning around to look at her, but she was already gone. "How do you know what my soul craves?"

"More than women, power and wealth, you want your father back." She said with a smirk.

"So? My entire village knows that. That doesn't mean you know anything about me."

"Oh?" She said, feigning surprise. "So, your name isn't Theodore Arcvell, your mother isn't Alicia Arcvell, and your father wasn't Simon Arcvell? You don't live in the forest village of Trell, you don't hate Arycas the Lightning Lance for ruining your family's life and you don't sleep in a wheelbarrow when you're supposed to be tending to your family's crops and livestock? I guess I don't know you."

Theo's heart filled with anger. Who was this woman? Why was she trying to get into his head? Why did she know about Theodore's life? "Who. Are. You." Theo slowly asked, with an edge in his voice that could cut solid rock.

The woman smiled and chuckled to herself again, "In due time, Theodore. In due time." She disappeared again, then reappeared next to him, her black lips at his ear, "But for now, it's time to wake up."

Theo shot up in bed covered in a cold sweat that drenched his sheets and clothes from the following day. What in Pandora was that? He asked himself. Perhaps the stress of the following day had gotten to him. He couldn't truly say for certain.

After he had changed clothes and cleaned himself up, he heard the culmination of several excited voices outside his window. By the temple of Miyosh, there was a large gathering.

He stepped outside his cottage and was immediately approached by Sam, "Theo, Theo come quick!"

Theo looked down at the excited boy, "What is it Sam?"

"It's Arycas! He's returned!"