"The Legend of Blade: The Birth - Chapter Two" by Josh ´Boo Boo´ Walls

       Back at the top of the cliff, Blade looked back down into the sunken palace-

       -nightmare's more like it.  I'm already regretting doing this, but I have to don't I?  Lelia is there; I know it.  Whoa.  That's a long way back down.  Well, let's find that griffin, shall we Mr. Blade Atmostrata? - he thought to himself.

       He stared at the castle, its tall, black walls of brick.  He hadn't noticed it before, but the walls were really thick, making him glad he didn't try to knock them down.  Blade had thrown down his share of walls, but none that thick.  These seemed to be reinforced by another wall that was backed by yet another.  He didn't need to break a bone trying; it would be hard enough as it was.

       Rambling, his brain thought of what all could have happened and he didn't notice it at first, but a horse was neighing.  Half hoping it would be his jet black friend he left behind and half hoping it would be Doane and Lelia, he turned.  He wanted to finish this.  Instead of disappointment, he was met face to face with a startle.  Not only was his horse there, but a shorter man in a white mage's cloak was holding the reigns, keeping Streak from running away.  Blade, lowering his balance and setting his frame and sword into position to fight if the need arose, studied the man before him.  He didn't know who he was, but yet, he didn't believe him to be a threat either.  Maybe it was his short, spiked, golden-white hair, or maybe the way his eyes sparkled with complete understanding.

-Or maybe I'm just noticing that he doesn't have a weapon drawn and is holding my horse for me.  That sounds better.  Even still, I can't trust him just yet.  I don't know his intentions. - Blade thought as the man began to speak in a mellow tone.

       "We have been waiting for you, Mr. Atmostrata.  It seems that Streak here doesn't like this place, and if I were you I would heed unto her advice.  But we both know better, now don't we?  I know all about you.  You seek the griffin, but keep in mind that the griffin is not the answer you seek.  You will find it on the peak of Holy Hill.  Good luck," he finally said.  Then, with these final words, he was gone, just... gone.  He disappeared into the air like dust, but dust didn't just vanish, it was blown away and dispersed...

       -Now what?  Am I seeing things or did he just vanish?  Whoever or whatever that was, I should listen to him.  The griffin went north towards Holy Hill.  It is said to have a protector in the legends.  Maybe the griffin is the "Holy Beast."  No one goes there, it's too bright.  Maybe that it is a legend, someone saw it and no one dared to varify it.  What am I doing?  This isn't the time to decide what's what.  Maybe this beast is the griffin.  There's only one way to find out, get to the hill. - Blade decided inside of himself.

       Blade rushed towards the forbidden Holy Hill of the north as the sun was retiring.  He hoped to find his journey easier since he was moving away from the dark hole that was Ogden, radiating a sense of pure evil.  As evil began to fall around at the falling dusk sunlight, he soon found he was asking too much of his travels.  The sunset that he had watched with Lelia over and over now looked different as the sun fell behind the mountains, finishing its duties for the day.  Instead it seemed to run from something, looking for shelter from an unseen harm.  He didn't want to know from what it ran.  But the sun still was still appended in the sky.  Yet, it became darker, and darker, and darker, until it was as dark as Goherda.

       Climbing off of Streak, Blade tied her to a cactus and slowly began his ascension up the hill.  Streak felt uneasy and it was very noticable.  She tried to follow Blade, as if wanting protection, but gave up after she found that she had been restrained.  She had laid down in wait and hope of his return.

       The sword quickly became a necessity to make it out alive.  Blade had other weapons, too: the bow and arrows, bow staff, and other specially crafted items, such as his forearm, wrist and shin guards that were re-enforced enough that they dealt enough when used as a weapon, but his sword was preferred above all else.  It was completely his favourite item.  He never left it anywhere; when he went to sleep, he sometimes cradled it like a prized possession.  This passion turned into an urge to master its abilities.  He soon learned that the weaknesses of the sword could be changed into unthinkable strengths, as the weight and shape grew, the harder it was to handle.  This improved the handler's coordination, speed, and ability to use lethal techniques.  In fact, his fondness of the sword gave him his name; an alternate term for a sword was a blade, the lethal end of the weapon.  So, he adopted the name Blade-

       -Which is very suitable if you ask me.  I am the master of a blade, so it should be named after me.  The perfection, it cannot be overcome.  Don't get too cocky though.  You haven't forgotten what you came for, and you remember how dangerous the last encounter had been. - Blade thought to himself.

       Of course he remembered; it had almost cost him his life.  The first time that Doane had tried to come into the village for him, he was only a little boy.  Blade had already learned of his uniqueness and knew that he was a warrior.  Doane came and told him he was his rightful father, and he may have believed him if he hadn't been asked to leave his sword while Doane kept his own drawn.  Blade always thought that Doane should have sheathed his own, while Blade carried his with him.  If he was Blade's father, why worry of retaliation?  So, Blade challenged Doane, and would have lost if Lelia hadn't jumped in the way and taken a blow to the arm.  After that he felt like he needed to repay her, and a relationship grew, so he didn't mind that mistake.  Doane had left because someone was willing to protect him, and he told Blade it would save him the trouble.  But, still the same, it may have worked out for the better, but he needed to stay collected.

       -The warrior's Golden Rule, "Always underestimate yourself, and always overestimate your enemies," - Blade reminded himself.

       Blade had to dodge demons and jump over a few broken bridges, but it was a breeze compared to the attack at Desert Beach.  These demons didn't have a body for the most part, and the ones that did seemed more like raging wolves.  There were so many of them that just became annoying.  When he reached the pinnacle, he thought that he had become so possessed as to dream it was true.  It wasn't until the shrill cry brought assurance that he believed it.  Blade saw the griffin.  Its wings were different, but the gash was still open and bleeding; a slight clot began to form, proving that it was indeed his previous foe.

       Then Blade saw it: a white, glowing orb set into a silver pedestal.  He hadn't noticed it before, but the light was blinding, coming from a dark dusk sky into a bright lit one was too much for his eyes at first.  Once he found the light too bright to adjust to, he felt solemn regret for not killing the griffin on the cliff at Goherda.  Not two seconds later, he was pinned against the wall by a claw, shaking from the wound he had given it an hour before.  Then the pressure was gone.  The beast took flight, seemingly wanting to take pleasure in conquering its foe with it full advantage of the tremendous light...

      -Weren't you ever taught not to play with your food? - Blade's mind spoke to the mythical beast.

       Blade went right to work, struggling to try and see the animal.  It wasn't anywhere to e found.  He thought about removing the light, but the closer he moved, the brighter it would glow, and the harder the force would press him back.  He began to strain to move forward and he had only taken a small three steps with at least another forty left...

      He stopped.  Something had changed; Blade could feel it.  Straining, he figured it out: the noises had stopped.  He sat in complete quietness.  What that meant, he didn't know, but it wasn't too appealing.  Giving off uncertainty and fear, the noiseless environment became unnerving.  He crouched a little lower as a precaution.  His ears beginning to ring, Blade realized what was happening.  The griffin hadn't left, it was merely gliding and not sounding its battle cry.  It was using the light to strike him blind.  And to further its chances, it was trying to use stealth.  Great trick, but Blade had been taught by Raul, the village elder and his adoptive father, how to counter this tactic.

       -Good thing, too.  Rest well, father.  Thank you. - Blade prayed.

       As the thought was leaving, Blade readied himself for work.  Putting his sword into its sheath, backing away from the light source for easier motion, and finally balancing himself in a defense stance, he was prepared.  It took more effort now in actual combat than it did when he was practicing.  He forced himself to focus on the movement of the air and his reflexes.  This would allow him to feel the beast dive at him, and greatly improve his quickness and reaction time.  He closed his eyes to avoid distractions... and he felt the smallest of vibrations from just behind him on his right side; the griffin was diving.    

---

       It was overwith so quickly, so fast that it was almost too fast for Rafael to keep up with.  Rafael could keep up with ease, but he hadn't expected Blade's abilities to be that well trained as to surpass all human possiblities.  Well not yet anyway.

       -He's not entirely human, and he will lose what humanity he has as he continues this journey.  He will become what he really is.  Yahweh said the might overcome it.  He knows everything, so why have me follow and help Blade?  He obviously doesn't need my help, especially after that.  If he can make it, why have me?  If not, why let him live?  It's probably better that I didn't try to fight him though.  I don't know if I could kill him after that act of discipline. - Rafael thought to himself.

       Blade had readied for the attack, but it seemed as though he were blind.  But somehow he knew where the griffin was, and stopped his attacker with inhuman speed.  The griffin flew up high, perhaps two or three hundred feet, then circled to Blade's blind side, the back right, before diving to finish him, to conquer the one who had injuried it.  At the moment when the griffin's claw was inches from driving into Blade's spine, Blade had spun hard left and grabbed the opposing limb as if he was used to this type of battle.  Without stopping his spin, Blade slammed the griffin's skull into the rock of a hillside by which he stood, crushing its skull and splattering some of its contents of the surrounding area.  In less than one second, the assault had been over, with the attacker lying lifeless on the ground beside the victorious oppostion.

       Rafael was proud.