• The Eight Dragons (prologue)
    In an age where magic and monsters ruled, an ordinary sword smith created the first weapon known to repel the monsters. It was called The Flame Sword. The sword was powerful, but took a heavy price: it absorbed the human's "Internal Flame," the very life of all living things. Therefore, only a select few were able to wield this sword without dying. Those few were tested by the sword smith, and eventually he created eight colonies, each with its own "Dragon". These dragons were masters in the flame sword, so much so that they had been granted eternal life. All was well, until the sword smith grew ill. The dragons’ powers were starting to fade, and a new evil was rising. Their power lessening, the Dragons forced their last internal flame into the first flame sword, preserving their spirit forever, never to be awakened until a prodigy was found. Someone who was skilled in the crafting of swords, the skill of magic, and above all, a young one, of exactly 14 years of age. This is where our story begins.


    The Boy: Day One
    I wrote this story on my life. The year was 850 A.D, and I was 13 at the time, almost fourteen. Our class was taking a field trip to the royal sword, made thousands of years ago. It was named "The Flame Sword" after the sword smith believed to be the best in the world. It was said to have been made in his forge, which never dropped below 200 degrees C, hence the name "Flame". Our class turned into a long hallway, and at the end was a brightly polished sword. Everyone seemed content with it. What's wrong with you people? I thought. This is a perfectly preserved ancient artifact, and a weapon at that! As the class started their dreary walk, I stayed back and admired the blade for a while longer. The blade had an ominous feel to it, like I could feel all the spirits this blade ever met. I was very curious due to my descendants (Very masterful in the skill of magic and crafting, they had to be curious, or they would not produce anything of any value) and felt like I should touch the blade. I reached out my hand very slowly, as if against my will. Seconds passed like hours, and my hand was just a few short inches away. "Sanji!" a woman's voice shrieked. I was in such a trance I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was my teacher, Ms. Umino. "What do you think you’re doing?! I told you before the trip not to touch the exhibits! Besides, you'll get your chance in a couple days."
    This was true, I thought. All fourteen year olds were permitted to touch the blade as a rite of passage to man/ womanhood, and my turn was in three days. "O-ok....." I stammered nervously, while still trying to catch my breath. "Why were you.... never mind." she said awkwardly. I shifted from foot to foot, trying to settle myself. "Just... try to stay with the class" she said calmly. I walked with the rest of the class to the next exhibit, a statue of the smith and the dragons forging weapons and fighting demons. The first dragon had lost its arm due to erosion and weathering, the second lost a leg, third a nose, fourth, fifth, etc. the only perfect one was the smith. He was fashioned out of bronze, copper, and gold so his legacy would live on forever. Ya, everyone’s amazed at that, I thought. this was nothing compared to the blade towards the end of the trip, we all had to write about the main attraction, the Flame Sword, and not to put our names on it. This way, she could read them out loud. After all were finished, ms. umino read the dreadful comments, and I realized something: they hate the sword because it didn’t pick them! Everyone who was rejected from the blade now shuns it with hatred, and that’s exactly why they weren’t chosen. Ms Umino had skipped mine, this way she could protect me from the more bitter kids, scarred with hate. I could handle them I thought. Then again, I was very ignorant back then. As I headed home I thought about what would happen if the blade DID choose me. Almost everyone would hate me, like I was an abnormality. Bullies would fight me just 'cause I’m supposed to be strong to wield the Flame Sword. But when I was young, I always got into fights of my own accord. I always lost, but I had fun fighting. And ever since I could remember, I’ve been rejected from society by everyone except ms umino. She was the only one who noticed the homeless kid on the street, and took me in as if I were an actual person. She has been like a mother to me, (both the good side and the bad). It was like I had always been her son. I looked up just in time to see a chariot coming towards me. I back stepped just in time to hear the angry cursing of the driver. When I looked around, I realized that I didn’t know this place. The buildings were cracked and eroded, the road was nothing but dirt instead of the stone we had back home. With a confused look on my face, I wandered back the way I came. I was about an hour late coming home, and the "bad side" of the mom came out. I got scolded for about what felt like hours. But towards the end, she returned to normal and went into "worry mode". That night I fell asleep late, not able to concentrate cause of the blade I would be summoned to in two days.


    The Boy, Day Two
    The next day people started looking at me funny. I guess they heard about my birthday. Throughout the day, even teachers gave me dirty looks. Ms. Umino gave a warning look to whoever she caught wanting to hurt me. That day, during our lunch break, I dumbly went off school grounds. About halfway through my walk, I noticed some shadows in the trees. Normally, I would have turned and faced the enemies, but this was different. For one, I was hungry. Two, the figures moved too quickly for me to fight. I figured they were wolves, but they were scarce, and this was a whole group. I decided to walk further, so I my lead them to an opening, to see them, or to the food hut, so they wouldn’t attack. Big mistake. I made it to the hut, and thinking I was safe, sat down and asked for some meat. Then, four Shadows (the dark lord’s followers) jumped from the trees. This was a bad day not to bring my sword, I thought. These were low class Shadows, so I could’ve taken two with a sword. All I had was a dull knife, strapped to my leg. I unsheathed it, and I focused my internal fame. I thought I saw a spark, but the blade only grew warm. The nearest Shadow winced, and I took the advantage. I swung the blade, but came up very short. The blade was short, so I missed completely. I decided to go with it and lunged. The blade connected and shot through its stomach. The Shadow burst and the little flame went into my knife. It grew slightly, and was now dagger sized. I was shocked for a second and one Shadow slashed to avenge his fallen comrade. I spun and the Shadow went passed me and the third sliced my arm. As I clutched the wound, the blade grew a little more. My wound started to burn, and I let go quickly. It started to fade, and I could move it once more. It still hurt, but I could defend again. The second attacked again and this time, it evaporated before it touched me. The third turned tail and ran. I don’t know why, but I let it leave. That was the biggest mistake I made.
    ________________________
    ”Milord! There was a flame warrior! He defeated……six of us! I was the lone survivor!” “Don’t lie to me! You are my eyes! He was a child! And he was only 13! I should have your head for this! A coward in my army! HAH! I shall give you twenty troops. Low class and you will lead, meaning, if you lose you shall die first.” “Yes milord!” The shadow bowed and left in a hurry.
    The Boy: Final Day
    That day, people stayed away from me. I kind of figured that they would, since I took on four shadows, and beat three of them. I went through my classes normally, but I didn’t get teased, so I guess fear isn’t so bad.