Haven Kingdom: Soldier of Solitude {Revision}

[Desert Jesus]

By: Desert Thorn (I love that pic. )

Ok, before I start, I want to tell you it starts out a bit slow. But things speed up soon. ;)

"What is a hero? To the unclothed mind of the adolescent, a hero is embraced only through one’s own dreams and nightmares…he or she often fights with the blunt edge of their blade, for freedom and for glory, and in the end conquers the eternal darkness looming above them like a brawling manner of hatred and fire. Acuity, deception, perfection…these were the traits that often attached the hero to his vocation…but only in dreams and nightmares, mythology and urban legend, could this stance against the champion be taken. The champion represents perseverance in the face of utter despair; he is battered and yet he is still combative. Courage, fortitude, pride… Life is a trap, in which a man is bound to be beaten and at never destroyed, but instead emerges triumphant, in his full stature, if he manages to keep his chin up. He is not merely born with the gift, but instead gives birth to it…through fire and hazard, menace and odium, the conqueror relives his greatest destiny that only visits him in the dead of night…through this the quest is born…the quest for questioning, where the code of honor becomes one of forbearance, primitive loyalty, and silent suffering; a code that stresses avoiding public displays in order to retain true emotion, true loyalty to ones friends, and true courage. Through mind the conqueror becomes the determination of faithfulness to one’s own experience, a tight-lipped, tough bull-dog of a man, who suppresses his emotions in order to remain in control of his own destiny. He wishes only for those around him to draw solace from his placid demeanor, where the cost of this becomes his own emotional pain and suffering. That…that is the meaning of hero…a meaning that rarely claws itself into the skin of an innocent individual…a meaning that is constantly biting away at the souls that it has absorbed into it’s forged axes and swords…a meaning that has not only killed, but has also tortured and twisted some of the most beautiful beings into adversaries…this meaning…“hero,” is folly. Heroism is like a knight in shining armor, completely covered in steel and weaponry related to warfare, as if it has everything…except the meaning to fight.”

Chapter 0: Nightmare's Dream

A horde of purple rimmed storm clouds emitted thunderous bolts of lightning as the gauche sea churned below. The waves rolled over one-another, as if fighting for domination of the sea, challenging Poseidon himself. Bolts of lightning weaved in and out of the clouds, forming eloquent streaks of light that seemed to draw a large, beautiful mural across the sky. Clapping with each other, the lightning began to grow bigger, and the thunder seemed to traverse even the deepest area of the Emerald Sea’s abyss. Yet, amongst the enormous battle, lay a single individual, floating lifelessly on the waters surface, eyes agape and staring into the heavens, transfixed by the magnitude of its chaotic beauty. But even the degree of the heaven’s magnificence could not prevent the character from thinking aloud his deepest, most controversial thoughts. “Life seems to pass by so fast... What am I living for? My own strength…? I feel like…like my soul is not present…as if it’s sinking into the void of the very ocean I lay...” His thoughts continued on. “I hate this.” Above him, he could see the storm clouds separating, and the rest of the stars appearing from the thin of air, forming the words “I hate this” in the sky. His intense gaze upon the universe barred him from noticing what was really occurring… All around his body, black smoke seemed to rise from the depths below, cunningly inching its way around his body, shrouding his eyes and causing him to see that which was not there – the stars. The beautiful, virtuous eloquence of the heavens had vanished into the squall, and now the only magnificence lay with his most recent memory. As he sunk into the deep blue, the words came back to haunt his innocence once again… “Carry me away; I need your strength to get me through this. Just one last time, I’ll let the darkness cover me…so slowly, I will walk away and trap myself in the abyss of my own Sin.” Sin…in the form of a giant, malicious hand, the sin descended from the heavens above and wrapped its gnarled, blood-stained fingers around the characters body. At that moment, it plunged his body into the depths below, only to pass him off into the palm of another. Venomous bubbles rose around his helpless body. He carried on like a holy man looking for redemption…blind. Plummeting into the darkness, he could see a deep, dark, blood-like whirlpool shoot at him from under cover of shadows. Circling around the blood-stained cyclone, he felt his body collide with a wall of serrated rocks. Debris escaped into his eyes and mouth as he fell from the cyclone, only to find that the water had become oxygen. Yes, fresh air! The stars circled around his body, discharging bolts of white light that appeared to carry his figure so. The illuminations laced his entire body, enlightening his black and red eyes as they did so. Finally, opening his eyes, he saw himself fall into a mass of black mist, surrounded by two, emerald eyes that seemed to stab his very skin. With a stare colder than that of ice, the eyes began to produce voices, bitter and spine-tingling. They haunted him. Cruelly assaulting his vulnerable body, the voices dropped him farther into the mist, only to trap him in a arena surrounded by pillars of lava. Flickers of magma being shot into the air, and steam blurred his vision. He could feel the unrelenting heat cover his entire stature as it boiled on his very skin, mercilessly scorching his skin. In the midst of unbearable pain, the character could see the outline of another person…a friend of considerable years. Enclosed in heavy garments and a large hood, the friend reached out for salvation. His eyes, once blue, gleamed red in the mysterious shadow that the hood laid upon his face.

“Amaric!” The young man in the arena reached out for his friends’ assistance, only to stumble and fall through the clouds under the arena and land in the vision of a thousand and one blank faces. He slowly rose to his feet, panting and tasting his sweat as he did so. The figures just stood there, motionless. “You all don’t bother me! **** you! Egaah!” The words exploded from the tips of his tongue, for he knew who they were. The villagers…the ones who mocked him so. Those who gazed upon him with detestable eyes and openly loathed his existence. As the young man stood, surrounded by the presence of hatred, a voice from amongst the countless assemblage of bodies resounded of the dark red walls that surrounded him.

“You must choose...” It was then that the young man awoke. His body, cold, lie on a rock in the midst of a forest, and his mind began to race with thoughts… ‘I had that dream again…’ Indeed, he had this same dream every single night. It had become a part of his existence, as well as factor in his own insecurities. ‘It was more a nightmare, really…oh, crap! The test!’ He had forgot! Looking up into the skies, the man noticed the positioning of the stars and quickly hurried off into the trees.

[brklynzsnoopy23]

alright! my boy got his fanfic up, nice good editing, get in the good parts, keep goin

my bad this is getblazedordie i am on my friend computer

1

[getblazedordie]

sorry i was on my frriends computer, good story

1

[Desert Jesus]

Chapter 1: Night's Beginning

Raiden Ravez emerged from the shadows of a nearby tree, and upon doing so lept up into the darkened canopies above. He was fervently shivering; the bottomless night temperature had been chilling him to the bone ever since he left his home five hours earlier. ‘I should’ve worn warmer clothes…’ thought Raiden, clutching a mysterious item that seemed to grapple around his neck. The item gave a slight glimmer in the moonlight, but soon faded away into the shadow of Raiden’s hand. ‘I have four…only six to go…you can do it, you still have till dawn…’ Raiden’s pace began to quicken excessively as he surveyed the surrounding area with sharp, unmatched eyes that seemed to give a light red glimmer in the moonlight, perfectly matching his red and black heavy jacket that fell just short of his knees. His face pierced that of expressionless, mysterious and unrivaled by any other, with forever tightened eyebrows that made him seem as though irate. And on either side of his face bore the engraving of a sharp, dagger-like birthmark that seemed to dig painfully into his face. His knees fell just short of two large folds where he had rolled his pant legs up eight years before, during a preparation exam. The exam was unbelievable brutal for him, for his skills were still untouched and mocked by the many students who surrounded him. ‘I can remember it as if it were yesterday…even though they still mock me, I’ve learned to live with it. Always…haunting me, their laughs and scorns of hatred…what have I lived for? My own strength…?’ The tree’s before Raiden soon lost their brown, decayed fashion and became much more eloquent, like the outlined bodies of those who constantly ridiculed him and tore away at his spirit with unrelenting ease. The shadows of the Forest of Birth turned to blank stares of abhorrence, and its overgrowth became that of many beautiful bushes and pines…Raiden’s uncontrollable memories had grasped him, and catapulted him into his youth.

“You’re never going to pass at this level, young one. You’ve got to give it your all, and accomplish your task without hesitation and worry for your own life. That is what being a Shinobi is all about.” Ran a mysterious voice from behind the young Raiden, whose skin was untouched and smoother than that of a dragon scale. The young boy did not say anything.

“It’s useless, Master Ramiro, the boys’ a lost cause…better to just leave him for the Demons.”

“Ignorance,” Sniped Ramiro who was crouching over Raiden’s sleep-deprived body. “Your words are hateful, and so are your intentions, Marc. You’d better cure your sick attitude, or you will never pass my class.” Ramiro looked back at the boy, whose face was mostly covered by his dead-white hair. His eyes sagged with sleepiness, with ruby red pupils shining down upon Raiden’s useless body with hate and malcontent. “Marc…I want you to train through the night,” Marc gave a cold grunt and turned his back to Ramiro, who was looking upon his student with unwavering eyes. “And I will be watching.”

“Why doesn’t Raiden have to stay and train? Playing favorites again, I see,” Raiden was unmoved, for it was what he had expected him to say. Kneeling down before Ramiro and Marc, his eyes covered by a spine-chilling darkness, and his yellow-red-rimmed hair gleaming as it wove in the sun, a tear dropped from Raiden’s face. ‘Why do they hate me?’ Sniveled Raiden in his thoughts. The people of the Second Village of Rah, also known as Velar, made such an impact on his feelings throughout his life…tormenting him with detestable eyes and haunting his nightmares. He often heard cries of pain in the night surrounding his village. The chilling sounds weaved through the homes of the innocent, killing and slaughtering every being that stood before them…until the sounds confronted Raiden. Standing alone in his nightmares, surrounded by the voices of those who mock him so, Raiden always seems to notice the chilling sounds pass him by…as if one of their own. But he was now 16, and he knew why the peoples had detested him so much…he couldn’t blame them, and that was the sin that he knew he would live with for the rest of his life; the sin that he was who he hated…through his body flowed the blood of that which he so loathed, of that which destroyed his parents…he was a Demon. A…Half-Demon to be exact; it was unheard of, the mixing of bloods between a human and a Demon…it was unbearable…all throughout his life he became immune to anguish, forever looking upon himself as an outcast who would, till the end of his days, fend for only his own hide until he emerged on top. ‘That is what being a Shinobi is all about, leaving your emotions behind, destroying all obstacles no matter what the price…but... I always feel so sick…my soul feels…mutilated…’ The young boy finally pushed himself to his feet, the shadow of his master swallowing Raiden up in darkness. He could sense Marc give a vile mumble as he marched off into the forest, leaving behind both Ramiro and Raiden for his training. “Why don’t you just get.”

[Desert Jesus]

Comments and critiscm would be appreciated.

[Desert Jesus]

^^Still hold the same statement.