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The Leader of the group stumbled out from the wall awestruck at what had just happened. "Who the hell are you whelp?!", he yelled. "What is your name?! What the hell are you?!" The boy looked down at himself staring at the kind of clothing he wore, they say that clothing defines the wearer...but then again how did he know that? Then he looked at the leader and his group. The all wore back leather jackets over a belt sling that held their own Blades. The leader had two belt slings defining his superiority. Aside from that their uniforms weren't that complex but showed their aggressiveness no doubt. most of them seemed young, but this guy had a seemed slightly older, with a growing beard, and there was an angry glint in his eye like someone had just gotten smacked in the face. "I-I don't have a name." he said. "What?!" exclaimed the man. "well, well boys, we just stumbled on another no-namer! GYAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!" The rest of the group laughed along with him.

Issac

That one name began to resonate within him, as though it heard the mocking tone of the man's voice. "I don't suppose you have one, do you?" He retorted. "Feh," The man started. "I have a name and I'm proud of it!!! It's Mikhail, and that'll be the last word you'll ever hear in this life, BOY!!!" Mikhail drew out one of his long blades and started forward aiming the blade tip at the boy's Torso. Instinctively, he dodged the attack with the blade ramming into the wall. Then the kid delivered a roundhouse kick into Mikhail sending him into a table. The rest of the group started forward to assist their fallen leader. Then suddenly a surge flowed into him, rising in self defense. It was released as Electrical thunder bolts flinging each member into the wall landing them unconscious beside the knocked out Mikhail. Ten he started for the door expecting more adversaries, but apparently It was all a bluff. He went back into tie up the thieves. As he finished, the innkeeper stopped him on the way out.

"please. I want to give you something in return for your help." He said. He withdrew out a small Ruby and placed it on the boy's hand. "What?! No, no I can't accept this...", he said replacing the ruby in the old man's hand. "It just doesn't feel right to do so."

"Kind at heart, like a hero...You know I am lucky to have met someone like you."

"How so?"

"You saved my house, and my building at that!!! but most of all...you're a true mage!"

"A what?"

"You don't even know your identity?"

"No... I lost my memory a little while ago...I don't remember anything..."

"So sad...well I can give you some advice. I heard that the kingdom capital in the west town had just lost their own mage. You could apply yourself there. But I warn you...be careful of who you meet...as you are the last of them left alive."

"What?! How?"

"I don't know....some say it was an accidental explosion, others say a plague. I believe...someone is exterminating them."

"Exterminating?"

"Yes so you should be careful about who you meet... the world is a darker place now."

"thanks for the advice, sir."

"Please, call me Mort."

"Ok....Mort."

And so the boy left pondering all the advice Mort had left him. What was bound to happen next?