The kingdom of Densari had twenty three duchies. It was one of the dominating countries of the continent of Trale. In a continent known for constant slaughter and wars, Densari was also proficient in wars. The Duke of Simelias of Densari was known for his strategies in war. Though not an accomplished warrior himself, he had won many battles from his betters due to his strategies. After winning the war against Gialta, Duke Simelias was granted an audience with the high priest of Brollon in the capital city of Densari, Atena. Seizing this opportunity, Duke Simelias asked the high priest to pray to Brollon as his duaghter Cecilia was yet to become a mother after three years of wedlock.

Eleven months hence, on the eve of the Brollon's new year, Cecilia went into labour at her father's keep. As the Simelias castle was besieged with snowstorm, Duke Simelias sent his men for a sister of Freya, while his maids looked after Cecilia. A snowstorm at its mightiest prevented his men to perform their task in time. As the twelfth bell rang, so did the cries of the child born to Cecelia, wife to Count Hombrey, daughter to Duke Simelias. As the cries of the child rang within the keep, the snowstorm on the outside came to an abrupt halt as if its work was already done.

Three sisters of Freya arrived by the fourth bell of the morrow. As they saw the child wrapped in silken blankets, their eyes were filled with admiration, for the child took to her mother's beauty and charm. They gave the child a bath in warm water, and nursed Cecilia for she was wrought with exhaustion. By the second bell of the noon many Counts, Viscounts and other nobels were in the castle congratulating the Duke and his daughter. Count Hombrey arrived by the eight bell of the dark and went to see his son before attending the banquet. The duchy of Simelias was blithe with joy and celebration.

On the second of the first month of seven hundred and fifty sixth year of Brollon, High priest of Brollon arrived at the keep of Duke Simelias. He went and blessed Cecilia but as he saw the child his eyes shone for a moment then he closed them. He started chanting prayers his half raised, palm facing upward. Duke and the count were watching him with anxious anticipation of what was about to come. This had never happened before. The High priest of Brollon never left his temple, much less Atena. On the few ocassions he did leave the temple was to visit the Royal family and give his blessings.

"Darkness is rising" said the High priest with a rasped voice his eyes still closed. "The Demon Lord lives once again. Death is losing its hold on its prisoners. On the other side of the world, wars are raging between viles never seen before. Demon Lord is but a child in front of the one who gathers itself after thousands of years of slumber." There was concern and dread laced in his voice as he spoke. The Duke and the count just stood there baffled, unable to grasp the meaning of what was being revealed to them. Cecilia cradled her son in her bosom closing her eyes in terror. Terrified for both herself and her son. The High priest slowly opened his eyes as he looked at the child, eyes seeing a glimmer of hope in the child before him. With a sigh he said "The child is the only hope for mankind and all else upon this land. He is the harbinger of hope. Brollon has spoken.

"Let him be known from this moment hence as Rafil, the bearer of hope. He will earn many names in his life. Let me give his first one. His legends shall be told through out the world for centuries to come. In his little infant hands he carry powers of the old the world has not seen in millennia. The servants of the one will try to harm him for he is the one they fear the most. Protect him from any harm. Raise him to the man he is meant to be. There shouldn't be errors in this. This world can't afford it." The Duke and Count still not grasping what the words of the High priest meant bowed in accordance.

"We are honoured, my Lord. Rafil shall be his given name henceforth" said the Duke. Cecilia still clutched her son in terror. Terrified for the responsibilities being thrust upon her infant son. Her son looked into her eyes with large black eyes his lips grinning in a wide smile as his hands twiched.

"I am sorry child, for thrusting such fate upon your first born but the world requires it so. Brollon requires it so" said the high priest in his rasped voice looking at Cecilia with pity in his eyes. "I will now leave Simelias. Make sure you take care of the child. Without him we are doomed." The high priest shook his head in concern and left.

"Don't worry Cecilia, as long as I am here nothing will come to pass upon our son" said Count Hombrey trying to reassure his wife.

"Rafil ... your mother will always be there for you" said Cecilia with moist eyes staring into the abyss of her son's eyes. As if sensing the moment, Rafil closed his eyes and grinned in his sleep.

High priest of Brollon was not the only one to feel the ripples of Rafil's birth. Many temples consulted with their gods and sought to gain favours from Densari. After all, the bearer of hope was in the bounds of Densari. On the other hand there were some people who sought to find Rafil as soon as possible and remove him from their paths.

Three and half month hence, Count Hombrey returned to his father's side as he had untimely fallen ill and could pass over any moment. Cecilia now slept alone with her son. On the third morrow since the departure of Count Hombrey, Cecilia woke up to find Rafil missing. She frantically went to her father breaking down into tears. Duke Simelias upon seeing this ordered his guards and maids to search everywhere in the castle. After two bells when there was still no sign of Rafil, Duke Simelias ordered his sixth regiment to twenty five lashes each and sent rest of his men to scour his entire duchy. High priest upon hearing this news felt grief with no bounds. He spoke with the king and ordered the entire kingdom scoured still hoping for the best. Two months later there was still no sign of Rafil.

Five hundred miles away from the keep of Simelias, was a mountain with its peak covered in snow. The mountain was covered with lush green forest below the ice cap. The mountain was no different from all the other mountains beside it. These mountains together formed the mountain range known to people as Gialta Lionshold. The name came from large number of mountain lions found in the range. Wild life flourished in the range as the people generally avoided it from the fear of lions.

On a mountain below the ice cap was pond, reflecting the milky moonlight. At the edge of the pond was a hut with a pile of woods burning beside it. Near the fire sat a man with silver in his stubble for a beard which suggested at either his long cycles of experience or hardship. Next to the man was a boy of a cycle and a half. He looked with his large black eyes at the pot that was hung over the fire. He shifted his gaze from the pot to the man next to him. "Pa foo" said the boy in his own broken language to the man next to him.

The man looked at the boy with contempt daring him to speak again. The boy ashamed, look down at his feet with a hint of red in his cheeks. "What did I say today Rafil? No food till you get the runes correctly. If you want the porridge then recite the runes of the elder gods" said the man as he shook his head and shifted his gaze back to the fire.

"But I hayt it. I wan to train like you Pa" said Rafil once again revealing his broken language hinting at the short amount of time he had been speaking. He met his father's gaze boldly trying to prove a statement.

The man shook his head once again "You need to train your mind first if you want to learn the way of the sword. If you don't have enough patience and endurance then I can't teach you. You need to have a sound mind to learn the sword" said the man with a look of disappointment in his eyes.

Rafil looked down with embarrassment, his cheeks flaring red. "Now the runes?" said the man once again facing the fire, prodding it with his stick.

"I forgot" Rafil said dejectedly still looking down at the ground near his feet.

The man sighed and said "Oh well, no need in delaying. Eat up the porridge and go to sleep. But I want those runes tommorow, alright?" with a slight smile.

Rafil looked up excitedly and nodded. He quickly finished his share of porridge and went back to the hut to sleep.

"You can come out now. No use in hiding" said the man calmly after a while.

A chuckle came from the woods behind him. A woman emerged from the shadows of the woods grinning wildly and looking at the man sitting at the fire. "You really are as the legends say. Nothing can get past you, eh? Basil the 'Wind Slayer'. I was really looking forward to meeting you. Now imagine the surprise i get when I see you dwadling with a child no older than two cycles. A child suckling at the bosom of the Wind Slayer. What will people think of the legend now?" said the women looking at the Basil's back. Basil turned around and saw her move with a lithe posture wearing a sleeveless dress with the insigna of the three headed snake. It was enough to tell him what he needed to know about her.

"Why has he sent you? Does he think that he is above me? Sending a youngling to talk with me?" said Basil, rage replacing the placidity of his voice as he once again turned his back on her to look at the fire.

"Oh no, not at all. He thinks quite highly of you. I insisted on coming alone. After all how could I miss this opportunity to meet the legend himself. I must tell you, after seeing with you the child, I am not impressed. I wonder if you are still are all that the legends say" she said slipping knives to both her palms as she sprang into action. She leapt towards him confident of her abilities to strike him before he had the chance to even blink.

Her heart clutched itself as she sensed dread and felt as if the god of death itself was standing beside her, ready to taker with itself. As soon as she could notice, both her arms were bound behind her back with a grip as strong iron. Another hand flicked her behind her hears. The hair of back stood up in horripilation. A soft voice whispered to her in her ears "Do you love death so much child? You should choose you opponents wisely. You live just because you are his pupil. Don't mock me again." The hold on her arms loosened and she dropped to ground. When she looked up she saw that man was still where he sat, it was as if he hadn't moved an inch.

"Tell him its only been just over a cycle. It'll have to wait. He is still too young. And tell him ... If he values his pupils then not to send them to me on his behalf" said Basil, still sitting where he was. The girl gulped in terror. She hurriedly got up and left the pond. After running for about half an hour she paused for breath.

"Monster. Demon. Master didn't do him justice. The legend doesn't gives him enough credit." The girl was panting in terror and exhaustion. She gathered herself after a while and left the mountains.