In the lands of House Karaki, a young noble stood upon a training field, watching those all around him spar, and train.

That noble, Aeiron is Suru dol Karaki, could not help but have a feeling of slight disdain. He was greater than the others, stronger, faster, more capable, to a degree that some called him supernatural. And yet, he still had to spend an hour here, every day, rehashing drills he already knew by heart.

In a fighting circle, Aeiron drew his sword, Tailsong, and whipped it through the air, performing drills at lightning speed, even as a small crowd began to gather, to watch. Aeiron allowed himself a small smile. Perhaps, if a large enough crowd grew, his father would finally allow Aeiron to start training at the level he himself wished to.

As he continued on with the drill, Aeiron found ways to make it more and more elaborate, for the benefit of those watching. When he was done, he concluded his drills with a perfectly executed flip, that he was sure seemed effortless to those who watched it.

Done, Aeiron left the training circle. As he began to head back in the direction of his father’s castle, however, a brown-clad and hooded man roughly grabbed his arm, and pulled him out of the crowded throng, around and to the back of a weapons storehouse, where they were alone.

Aeiron roughly jerked the man’s hand away, then, and rested his fingers on his sword. The hood obscured the man’s features, indeed, hid them entirely, but Aeiron gazed defiantly at him.

“I do not think you know who you have decided to mug,” said Aeiron. “And I assure you, that indeed, for you, this experience will not be pleasant.”

Instead of running, or preparing for a fight, the stranger did something else entirely. He pulled back his hood.

Aeiron found himself face to face with a Nari.

A Nari. A protector of the natural order.

Seeing that snake’s head looking at him with intelligent eyes, Aeiron no longer doubted that the myth was real.

“Hello, Aeiron,” hissed the Nari.

Aeiron committed himself to a short bow. “Forgive my earlier words,” he said. “But what do you want from me?”

“Have you ever felt like you were meant for something more?” asked the snake-man.

“I can say that I have,” said Aeiron, guardedly.

Yellow, serpentine eyes studied him carefully, and the Nari’s scales glittered against the dying light of the sun.

“After a millennia, we have found the next,” said the Nari. “You are He.”

“He?” Aeiron repeated. “What am I meant for?”

But now, it was that Nari that bowed its head, in deference. It took a step backwards, and smoothly knelt, so that Aeiron could stand higher than it. And then, the Nari spoke.

“You are the Anointed One.”