The country of Sando is a war-torn country, conflict almost everyday and the citizens of the country are afraid of the man that they call their ruler. A ruthless war-lord named Xanthos rules over all of them. None of them have the power or the courage to stand up against this man. Rumors fly around about Xanthos everyday, some say that he isn’t real and other’s say he is some sort of a demon. Either way, he isn’t good or kind. He rules the country with an iron-fist, and if someone tries to overthrow him, they are killed. There are also rumors about a warrior that might be able to bring Xanthos down.
Could a man like this really exist? If so, would he ever come to Sando and challenge Xanthos for power? Too many questions and not enough answers. Blood was spilled everyday and families were separated due to the wars that were waged in the country. The men were always called to battle, the women were spared. They stayed home and cooked and tried to fend for their family while their men were away. The strong seemed to always come back, the
weak always perished. It was the way of a solider, the way of a warrior.
The village of Syrando was always under attack and there were no brave warriors to defend it. The village was like a helpless child that didn’t have a parent. Xanthros would send his warriors to the village to collect money from the villagers, if they couldn’t pay the war-lord they either died or were taken prisoner. It was a very broken place to live in and nearly impossible to survive in. So many wanted to stand up to this war-lord, also they wanted to keep their own lives and families intact.
A young boy watched the carnage from outside of his window. He had to be no other than 8 years old, he had violet colored eyes and silver hair and dark skin. He was muscular for his age, he was dressed in a pair of black shorts, a tanktop and a pair of sandals. His mother continued to lie to him, saying his father would be coming back anyday. He knew better, a lot better. He secretly wished he could do something about what was happening. He knew it wasn’t right and there wasn’t anything he could do about it right now.
The child’s mother approached him and put her hand on his shoulder. She smiled. “Don’t worry, Cro. Your daddy will be home soon.”
Cro pulled away from his mother, he hated all of this fighting and just wished there was something that he could do. Why did they have to live in this war-torn country? Why couldn’t they just live in a place that was at peace. He was only ten years old. He was hoping when his father came back that he would train him so he could fight. He kinda knew that is something his father didn’t really want to do, but who would carry on the fighting when his dad got old?
He envisioned himself as some great warrior one day, right now he wasn’t that. Everyone in this village saw him as a child. Being ten years old still meant he was a child? He didn’t see it that way. It wasn’t like he was doing child-like-things. He didn’t play with toys or gather with the other boys and girls in the village. When he went to school there were only a few people he would socialize with. It wasn’t like they were friends, he just found them to be not as annoying as the other students.
Cro looked back at his mother. “I should be hunting with dad.” He didn’t like being left behind, he had hunted with his dad once. It was before the village had gone to shit. He knew his mother was going to try and comfort him and tell him to go do something fun or what not. There was nothing fun to do in this house or the village. He did wonder what everyone else in the village was doing and he could feel his mother watching him.
His mother shook her head. “Your so stubborn. You know he will take you when you are older.” Her name was Mayumi and she was the one that always comforted Cro. Sometimes he didn’t care for it, he had a unique vision of the world. She knew he wanted to be strong so he could protect them. There wasn’t much a ten year old boy could do to protect one’s family. She feared if he quested for power and strength it might damn him. He looked up to his father so much, it was frightening.
Cro walked away from his mother and entered the kitchen and got a glass of water and drank it. He thought about heading up to his room to pretend to take a nap then sneak out. Or maybe he could just tell his mother he was going to go ‘play with his friends’ and then find some sort of battle or hunt a wild boar so they would have food on the table. He did have a rather dull sword up in his room. He didn’t know how to sharpen it though. Someone in the village must know how to sharpen blades.
Cro stared at the empty cup of water and he pushed his lips together. “Dad, you’re not gonna be the only strong one in this family.” He silently vowed this to himself and made up his mind. The men in a family were supposed to protect it. He didn’t just want to protect his own family, he wanted to protect all of the families. That meant he would need to get really good at fighting and learn how to use magic too! That might be a little difficult though. Doubt he could find anyone in the village that would help him learn magic and then there was that warlord that needed to be brought down too! He had a lot of work to do