This is currently titless because I don't know what it shall be called. I've yet to talk it over with my illustrater, technically she hasn't even read it yet and given me feedback but hopefully she can help me find one. In the mean time, feel free to give me R&R and also pitch me som possible titles.

Chapter Zero

An icy wind blows in the high mountaintops, bringing a light snowfall with it. All was once peaceful in the remote mountain valley, hidden away from the prying eyes of man. It all changed with the roar of battle.

A war was boiling between two neighboring nations Sxen and Altrew. The king of Altrew sent an army of warriors and Spellcasters through the mountains in hopes that he could catch the Sxenan king of guard. Yet a Ranger from Sxen heard the news and warned his king who sent his own fleet of warriors too attack their enemies.

Marcus was head spellcaster of the Sxenan fleet as well as the king side bishop. He was a powerful ally to Sxenan king and a deadly foe for the Altrewian forces. He stood tall over the steep incline leading into a valley in the mountains. Down below he could see the Altrewian camp.

He raised his hand and jerked his hand forward. Two men walked out from the crowed to Marcus’s side. They were Dante the king side knight and Callum the king side rook. No words were spoken between the three of them. None were needed. They knew what had to be done.

Dante and Callum stepped back from Marcus as he clenched his fist, breaking the skin of his palm. Warm blood began to slowly ooze over his finger stain the pure white snow. He the shot his arm up into the air, a blue light seemed to shine on his palm. As that happen a shinning blue sword appeared, started from his wrist and running up three feet.

“TO BATTLE!” Marcus yelled as he charged forward, down the hill. He quickly gained speed as gravity pulled him downward. It took every ounce not to lose his balance and fall into the snow. The Sxenan fleet followed Marcus’s example and charged in after him down the incline.

The sudden roar of battle started the Altrewian men. They stumbled and scurried through their camp to ready themselves. They were too overly exposed to the elements the mountain had and have grown weak. Still a few men charged with nothing. Flashes of light were seen around the men as they were suddenly surrounded by armor, each unique to the wearer.

Marcus grinned and the same happened to him. There was a flash of blue light, brighter then before. He was then equipped with blue armor that weighed nothing, yet was stronger then steel. The armor he wore was like the dragons that once filled their skies.

As Marcus and the other spellcasters met there was a flash of light as sword met sword. Marcus pushed against his opponent with every ounce of strength he had. He would not give in to his kingdom’s foes. To lose would mean the downfall of Sxen.

The other warriors soon joined the battle. The ringing sound of metal on metal rang through the arctic air. Marcus grunted as he pushed the foe away. He jumped back, grazing the palm his left hand with his sword as he did so. His palm glowed blue as he muttered an ancient tongue.

Fire then shoot forth from Marcus’s hand towards the enemy spellcaster. The spellcaster went to dodge the attack but he lacked to speed to miss it completely. The fire grazed the exposed flesh on his arm. Marcus grinned his minor victory and charged at the next unholy soul that crossed him.

Dante and Callum had parted ways as they charged down the incline. Dante gripped his sword firmly as he barged his way through a group of enemy warriors, slicing at them when he could. He stopped abruptly and did a roundhouse slice at the men.

As the enemy forces began to close in on Dante, Callum took them down one by one by his arrows. Dante grinned at Callum and started back at the remaining opponents. Callum turned to watch their remaining men fight hard against the invaders before returning to the longing battle.

Callum would continue to pick off opposing warriors with his bow. He never stood in one area for a long period of time. As he dashed to a new area he tripped over a lifeless corpse and fell on his arm into the snow. The Altrewian warriors saw this as an opportunity to take him down before he could kill more of their comrades.

Soon Callum was surrounded. The opponents were too close for him to use his arrows. He had to think quick on what he should do and grinned when he found a plan. He tossed his bow up and punched the nearest man in the face. As his bow came down he seemed to snap off the tips with ease, as if they were meant too. He then gripped the center of the bow and pulled it apart, showing two hidden blades.

Callum grinned widely as he started hacking at the startled men. When they were nothing more then the lifeless corpses he had tripped over, he quickly put his bow back together and ran to find a new archer post.

The battle continued for hours as warrior and spellcaster clashed iron on iron or magic on magic. Neither side would give in as the battle raged on. Dante and Callum both had retried back a bit, trying to regain lost strength. Soon both sides had only one spellcaster left; Marcus of Sxen, and Baird of Altrew.

Both men panted heavily from their longing battle with enemy forces. A blue light flashed again on Marcus’s palm and the familiar blue blade appeared on his wrist. Baird did the same except his blade was a dark crimson red. Both men charged toward each other. Ever muscle in their bodies moaned and begged for rest. They charged with strength and stamina neither had. As their blades clashed there was a bright flash as energy waves were sent forth.

As both men pushed against their enemy’s blade there was a faint roar, growing louder by the second. Marcus glanced up to see their fighting had jarred lose snow from the higher mountain top, snow that was racing toward the secluded valley. Neither Marcus nor Baird could escape in time. Instead they battle on, hoping one would die with the satisfaction of killing the other.

At the sight of the avalanche Dante and Callum scurried up the incline. They knew if they were high enough, they would be safe from the frozen death. The avalanche hit the valley with unsurpassable strength, burring anything and everything unlucky enough to stand in its way. Marcus and Baird were swept away by the snow, blades still locked. Dante and Callum were able to escape the snow; they were the only ones to do so.

Dante and Callum began their trek back up the mountainside, and through the range into the safety of Sxen. There would still be a week of traveling ahead of them, two if they lacked a steed. Yet once they returned to Castle Syn, home to Larken, King of Sxen, they were welcomed as heroes

“I assume by your return the raid on the Altrewian fleet was successful,” Larken asked.

“Aye, your majesty. Yet we are all to survive. There was an avalanche as the battle drew to a close. It killed anyone whose heart still beated,” Dante explained.

“And Marcus… Did he die by snow or blade?”

“Snow. He died while his Mythos Blade was locked with Baird’s. A grim was to die, knowing it was not you that killed your enemy,” Callum answered.

“Aye, that may be true. But his sacrifice was for the best of the kingdom. Now then.” Larken started, trying to change the subject, “Let us discuss strategies to plan our own surprise attack on Altrew…”