Legend of Glory

Legend of Glory

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Chapter One: Chosen

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(Six years later)

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In the sunny shades of Kimo’s trees, two young boys ran across the forest’s floor, laughing hysterically as a younger female followed to keep up with them.

Of the two boys, one had short, pointy brown hair and dark brown eyes. He had tanned, peach skin. Alongside him ran his friend, an adorable young boy with blondish hair and brown eyes. The boy had light peach skin. Both boys wore deer skins covering around their waists, leaving their chests bare other than bracelets made from animal teeth and claws. The only difference in clothing between the two was that the blonde-haired boy wore a furry cloth piece wrapped over his left arm, keeping it completely covered.

“Faster, faster Hiroto,” the blonde giggles. “Come on!”

“I’m coming!” Hiroto laughs, following behind his best friend.

From behind them, a little girl ran to keep up. She had short, brown hair that just reached to her shoulders. Her eyes were a lovely gray. She wore deer skins, too, with an extra piece covering over her top. “Wait for me!” she calls cutely. “Wait for me!” She seemed only to be five years of age.

The three race through the forests, laughing as they pass many curious animals. Deer, squirrels, raccoons, and fairies would stop to watch the running children. None seemed bothered by the three, as if knowing exactly where the three were heading. And shortly, the two boys make it to their destination, staring in awe at a beautiful, sparkling lake. The darling girl comes up behind them. She trips over a rock, and begins to cry. “K--Katsuya, w--why did you l--leave me?”

“I didn’t leave you,” Katsuya frowns. He bends over, helping the girl to her feet. She was his little sister, Shizuka. “You’re just not fast enough.”

“You shouldn’t be so mean to your little sister,” Hiroto said. “It’s not nice. What would your parents say?”

“I don’t care,” Katsuya smiles. He runs over to the lake, dipping his feet in the water. His best friend and little sister join him, dipping their feet into the cold, mossy mess, as well. “I can do whatever I want, because I have this!” Katsuya points to his arm, and he removes the cloth, revealing the green marking of a wolf.

“Just because you have that mark, don’t mean you can do whatever you want,” Hiroto argues. He bends over, picking up a lovely, pearled pebble. “Your parents tell you what to do.”

“Nah uh, you’re wrong,” Katsuya happily grins. “Chief Mandook said that when I’m older, I’m gonna be the next Chief of the village!”

Hiroto laughs, setting the pebble he found into a little pouch dangling around his shoulder. “Yeah? Well, ya don’t even have yer wolf yet!”

“I’m gonna get a good, strong wolf,” Katsuya says as his grin widens. He pumps his arms, showing off his puny, adorable arms. “He’s going to be big, mean, and ferocious!”

“You don’t even know what ferocious means!” Hiroto laughs. His comment awards him with a large chunk of mud smudging right across his left cheek. He turns, glaring at his friend. Katsuya’s hand, now muddy, points at Hiroto as trouble-making Katsuya laughs. “You’ll pay for that, Katsuya!” Hiroto grabs a hand full of mud. “Besides, it is the Wolves that choose us. We don’t get to choose, and you know it!”

“He’ll still be great,” Katsuya shouts, just as he is awarded a face full of mud. Growling, he tackles Hiroto to the ground. As the boys rustle in the water, Shizuka begins to cry. Luckily for her, a heavy pounding echoed through the trees, causing birds that were nesting in the branches to flutter up and into the sky.

Shizuka and the two boys lying in the water turn their heads, all watching as a large, dark brown wolf comes hauling out of the trees. It lands before them, covered in skinned armor. Four empty baskets rested over both its sides. On top of the wolf, a man sat, his hair dark and shaggy, his eyes lean and cold.

Katsuya whispers, “Uh oh, it’s your father!”

“Crap,” Hiroto whispers back.

“Boys,” Hiroto’s father shouts. “Stand to your feet!”

Immediately, Katsuya and Hiroto obey orders. They stand, both completely wet and muddy. Hiroto’s father looks on with anger, feeling rather disappointed that he had found the two boys wrestling around in Cilo Lake.

“You two, do you have any idea how worried we’ve been at the village?” Hiroto’s father loosens a rope around his furry riding companion. The rope causes three of the four baskets to fall to the ground. “We’ve been searching every for you!”

“We’re sorry,” both Katsuya and Hiroto speak adjacently. Though, within their minds, they were rolling on the ground in fits of laughter. The two were definite troublemakers. But they enjoyed adventuring, and found nothing wrong with having a bit of, what they like to call, fun.

“Indeed, you will be,” Hiroto’s father threatens. He nods his head at the baskets. “Get in, all of you!”

“What,” Hiroto whines. “Father, do we have to?”

Angrier, Hiroto’s father yells, “Get in!”

Shizuka immediately gets into one of the baskets. Frowning, Hiroto and Katsuya mumble as they follow pursuit, both feeling completely humiliated having to ride home in the side baskets. The baskets were meant for babies and toddlers. Katsuya and Hiroto were both six! They were not little. Of course, they saw themselves as strong and brave. Hiroto’s father proves them wrong. He re-tightens the rope, forcing the baskets to rise into the air, them resting against the wolf’s sides. And once finished, Hiroto’s father knees his companion, causing the large wolf to ride off into the trees.

--

Only minutes later, Katsuya found himself surrounded by heat and warmth. His mother, standing over him, was furiously scrubbing his body down, washing the muddy mess into a barrel full of steamy water. Katsuya was being bathed, and he knew that Hiroto was receiving the same treatment.

Shizuka sat behind her mother, watching Katsuya getting scrubbed as she eats away at a pear. She had been given a bath first, since she had been the least dirty. She sat, wrapped in a warm bear skin.

“I cannot believe how irresponsible my son is,” Nana says, her voice shaky from worrying over her children. “Five minutes I leave you alone, and what do you do? You run off, dragging your sister into the forests! You could’ve been eaten!”

“Mom, Cilo Lake is only ten minutes from the village!” Katsuya whines, hurting by the sharp brushes his mother scraped against his skin.

“That does not matter,” Nana sighs. She turns Katsuya to face him. “Katsuya, what you did was very foolish. Please promise me that you and Hiroto will stay out of those forests? At least, until you come of proper age?”

Katsuya frowns, but he nods his head. His mother smiles at him, and pours a final bucket of steaming water onto his head. Holding out another bear skin, Nana tells Katsuya to stand. He does so, having his mother wrap the bear skin around his body as she helps him out of the barrel. She begins drying him, earning displeased grunts from Katsuya, but Nana was only showing motherly love.

As Nana dries her son, Jonouchi steps in. Chief Mandook followed behind him.

“Darling,” Jonouchi smiles at his wife. “Chief Mandook would like a word with Katsuya, once he’s dressed.”

Katsuya looks over at his father, and Chief Mandook. The Chief always had that grin plastered on his lips. Katsuya found the man to be very fun to talk with.

“Of course,” Nana said. She finishes drying Katsuya as Jonouchi and Chief Mandook exit the room.

--

Chief Mandook stood, mixing a powdery red substance in a tiny pottered bowl. When he finishes, he slowly dunks the powder into a second bowl, this one larger and filled with a clear liquid. As the solid and liquid mix, it forms a thick-like substance. Chief Mandook turns to face Katsuya, whom has been sitting before a crackling fire, watching his Chief quietly.

Katsuya sat on his knees, making sure his back was straight. His Chief comes, and sits next to him. As sparks fly from the fire, Katsuya smiles brightly as Chief Mandook covers his cheeks in the red paint, the Chief chanting as he does so.

“Taking on the honor of becoming Chief is as important as thunder is to rain,” Chief Mandook says softly, placing a final touch of red paint on Katsuya’s forehead. “You will have a loyalty to your people. And, if you have the capability of doing your job, then they will serve and trust you.” Placing the now nearly empty bowl beside him, Chief Mandook takes Katsuya’s hands in his own, feeling the boy’s palms with the ends of his thumbs. “You had quite an adventure today, Katsuya.”

“You know about that?” Katsuya asks.

“I do,” Chief Mandook raises his head, keeping it balanced. “Riding back to the village in a basket. Oh, the embarrassment.”

Katsuya hangs his head. “I can take care of myself.”

Chief Mandook begins chuckling. “You are very brave, young Katsuya. But you have much to learn, still.”

“But I thought that being leader meant to be brave,” Katsuya adds in as he tries keeping his head balanced, like the Chief’s.

Chief Mandook grins, raising his head higher. “Becoming leader does not force one to be brave, young Katsuya. Many good leaders before you and I have been stiff. However, those leaders still ruled with large hearts.” Chief Mandook lowers his head. “You see, young Katsuya, it is not about how strong, nor brave, nor courageous you are. It is about whether you have the heart, the loyalty, and the affection to lead your people.”

“Oh,” Katsuya said. He still did not understand fully, but he knew that Chief Mandook had to be correct. “You know so much, Chief Mandook.”

Grinning, Chief Mandook nods. “Yes, I’ve been leader for many of full moons.”

“Wow,” Katsuya smiles. “You must be really old!”

Katsuya’s childlike comment causes a loud roar to coarse through Chief Mandook. The Chief pats Katsuya’s head. “Yes--I am quite old, but I am a proud leader. I am proud of my people, and I am proud of you, young one. I know that you’ll become a great leader when my time on this earth fades. Now, you are still young, still a child. Go and play with your friends. We are done for the day.”

Smiling, Katsuya hops to his feet. Chief Mandook rises, too, but more slowly. A few bones crack, and he groans only because the cracking felt amazingly nice. He waves farewell to Katsuya, watching as the young boy vanishes outdoors. “Young Katsuya, you will grow to become a wonderful leader.”

Turning around, Chief Mandook steps over to a large skin dangling by some string. It was decorated over with images, and one particular Chief Mandook stepped over to examine. The marking was the same one as on Katsuya’s left arm. “You will make sure that this village keeps peace,” Chief Mandook smiles, but his expression changes when his eyes avert, and he peers upon another marking on the skin. This one of a blue dragon. “But be weary, Katsuya, for when your time comes, there may be one capable of stopping you.”

--

(Nearly eight hours later)

Within a small, stone-cold building, there rests a small, cozy little room. The room was decorated in fine cloth and treasures, covered in wood-cut furniture, from chairs to a small desk. The desk was covered over in strange documents known as papers. And there, swiftly writing away on a piece of parchment, a young boy sat. His attention was fully on what lie before him. He was nicely dressed, wearing a fine blue robe, and his short, brown hair was perfectly smooth to the touch. His cool blue eyes keep focused on the parchment before him. He reads from a dusty book, and he writes what he reads.

From a small doorway, a tall man enters. His eyes rest on the young boy, and he smiles. The man was Tawasaki, and the hard-working boy was his firstborn son, Seto. Tawasaki walks over, leaning over his son‘s shoulder. “Chapter eight? You are working far hard, my son.”

Seto looks up, almost startled by his father’s sudden appearance. The boy showed no expression as he continued working. “It’s not that hard, really.”

“Quite,” Tawasaki smiles. He, himself, hardly got passed chapter four when he was his son’s age. And Tawasaki definitely knew, just by noticing how intelligent his son was, that Seto will become a strong, masterful leader to the Doragon tribe.

“Mokuba, come back here!”

Tawasaki turns his head, just in time to feel something wrap strongly around his leg. He peers down, and he smiles at an adorable two years of age boy holding tightly to his long, black robes. The boy was naked, and dripping wet. “Well hello,” Tawasaki chuckles, and he scoops the boy into his arms.

A young woman enters. Obviously, she was the boy’s maiden. She held a sponge in one hand, and a silky towel in the other. “Sir Tawasaki, I apologize. He got away from me.”

“It’s quite alright, Raiki,” Tawasaki smiles. “I know how much of a scamp Mokuba can be.”

Hearing laughter, Seto slightly turns his head, watching as his father tickles his little brother’s stomach. A tiny smile spreads over Seto’s lips. He really loved his little brother. Tragically, his mother had passed away after having Mokuba. She had lost a lot of blood, but the nurses and doctor were able to save Mokuba from any tragedy. And Seto still had his father, which he was thankful for.

He turns back to his work, continuing reading through chapter eight. He listens to his father, also, talking with Raiki about Mokuba. As Seto turns to the next page, there is loud banging coming from the door to his left. He lifts his head, and watches as his father shouts, “Enter!”

The door opens, and in walks the Highness, and current ruler of the Doragon tribe, Gozaburo. He was not alone, either. Clinging to his side was a small boy, roughly age three, with short, turquoise hair. “Ah, Tawasaki! I have come to do a check in on Seto. How is the boy doing?”

“He’s doing a well job,” Tawasaki smiles, making his way over to Gozaburo. “He is on chapter eight of the Book of Spells.”

“Really?” Gozaburo looks down at Seto. Seto was staring at him, motionless. Smirking, Gozaburo rubs his mustache. “Chapter eight? That is -- amazing. No other has come so close to the end of that book at his age. Fascinating.”

“It really is,” Tawasaki nods. “I assure you, High Gozaburo, that my son will become a great leader.”

“I do not doubt that,” Gozaburo grins. He pulls the little boy standing next to him closer. “It is just a shame that the legend is to come true at this time. I hardly expected that I’d have a son.” Gozaburo smiles down at his own son. “My son would have been a great ruler…”

Gozaburo’s words brought silence. Tawasaki, Seto, and Raiki all glare at him, pondering their ruler’s intentions.

“Seto will not disappoint,” Tawasaki sternly answers. He lifts Mokuba higher, getting comfortable. “He does have the marking, after all.”

“The marking,” Gozaburo sneers. “Of course.” Faking a smile, Gozaburo leans to Seto’s level. “I would very much love to see it again. It is just so -- striking.”

Seto holds his right arm against him, challenging Gozaburo with his deep, cold eyes. “It has not disappeared, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Laughing, Gozaburo rises to his feet again. “Of course not.” Gozaburo looks up at Tawasaki. “Your son has much to learn still, Tawasaki. I will return in a week, just to make sure things are running properly.” Gozaburo gives Seto a final stare, then he looks at his own son. “Come, Noa.”

With finger in mouth, little Noa follows his father as they exit.

A sudden crash startles Tawasaki. Some books and a decoration pot have fallen to the floor, in courtesy of Seto‘s anger. The pot shattered into many pieces, and the books landed with large thuds. Mokuba begins crying, scared by the sudden noise.

Tawasaki turns to Raiki. “Raiki, please take Mokuba and prepare him for bed.”

“Yes,” Raiki says, taking Mokuba. She wraps the towel around the little one, and goes out of the room.

Tawasaki grabs a chair. He places it beside his son, and he takes a seat. He watches his son, seeing a few tears straining to flow from the tips of Seto’s deep, blue eyes.

“I know you are frustrated,” Tawasaki whispers, placing a hand over his sons. “But you are doing a fine job, my son. “

“He’s such an asshole,” Seto grumbles. He wipes at his tears with his robe.

“You shouldn’t use such language,” Tawasaki says. He leans over the table, examining some papers his son has studied. “He only wants the best from you.”

“He’s still an asshole,” Seto says softly, keeping his eyes focused on the parchment before him. He could hear his father chuckle.

“Alright, he can be, as you say, an asshole,” Tawasaki grins. “But he is still our leader, and as such he is trying to prepare you to become as great as he. Now, I know you can do as such, Seto. Perhaps even better. You are intelligent, my son. You are wise, and you are strong. You’ve passed chapter seven of the Book of Spells with such ease.”

“It wasn’t hard,” Seto answers.

“You see,” Tawasaki smiles. “You agree with me on your intelligence level.”

Rubbing at his right arm, Seto looks towards his father. He looked so sad, and a hint of worry reflected from his eyes. He showed little emotion. He only showed his true self when only his father was present. “Father, what if the legend is untrue? What if I make a terrible ruler?”

“The legend is very trustworthy,” smiles Tawasaki. He takes his son’s right arm, pushing the sleeve until all skin showed. There, the marking of a blue dragon glimmered in the candlelight. Tawasaki rubs at it, never taking his eyes off of his son. “This is a very fragile symbol, and it is the very proof you need to become ruler. You may have noticed, Seto, that when you get injured on your arm, the marking heals your wounds. It is the magic, that does so, and that also leads to truth.”

Seto could do nothing but nod. It was true, about the magic of his healing arm. The symbol never faded. Never when he bathed. Never when injured. It was stuck with him. Stuck for life.

Releasing his son, Tawasaki comes to a stand. “Now, it is getting rather late. Let us clean this mess, and then I shall tuck you in for the night.”

--

Pulling on his nightshirt, Seto turns to face a straw-quilted bed with fuzzy sheets. He crawls in, having his covers tucked around him by his father. Comfortably snug, Seto gives his father thanks.

“Sleep now,” Tawasaki said. “Tomorrow is a new day.”

His father turns to leave, but Seto slowly whispers, “Father?” in hopes to stop the man. It had worked, and Seto smiles, watching as his father turns back round to smile at him.

“Yes?” Tawasaki asks.

“Father,” Seto looks down. “Father, would you please tell me a story?”

“A story?” Tawasaki chuckles. He moves over to the left side of the bed, taking a seat. “Isn’t it a bit late?”

“Please?” Seto pleads, giving his father an adorable stare. “I want to hear more of the legend of my marking.”

Getting comfortable, Tawasaki folds his right leg over the other, resting his palms over his lap. “Very well. Where would you like for me to begin?”

“Tell me about the beginning,” Seto smiles. He sits up, getting his listening ears ready. “I want to hear about the whole deal.”

Laughing, Tawasaki nods at his son’s true interest. His son would only act natural whenever it be just the two of them. Seto’s silence and strong attitude towards others has concerned Tawasaki, but he understood his son’s quietness came from hard studying and concentration. He watches Seto sit up, and lean against the softness of a feather-filled pillow, eagerly awaiting for Tawasaki to begin.

“Very well,” Tawasaki began. “Long ago, our tribe of the Doragon claimed to have met with a witch. She was gifted the nickname, “Mini,” due to her incredible ugliness. They say Mini had visited with the High Gozaburo, himself. She had come to warn our people of an infant to be born with a blue marking shaped like a dragon. And that marking would be wrapped over his or her right arm…”

“This?” Seto lifts his right arm, showing off the blue dragon.

“Yes,” Tawasaki nods. “Mini had told our people that the infant born with the dragon marking will be destined to rule over and protect his people. That is you, Seto. You are the infant from legend, and you are destined to rule over the Doragon tribe once Gozaburo passes.”

“Humph,” Seto lowers his eyes, rubbing at his marked arm. “What a stupid legend. No action. No thrills.” Seto looks back at his father. “So, Mini must be real, then, if I bare the marking.”

“That is what’s been told,” Tawasaki said. “Some say that the witch is still out there, feeding off legends and tales to tribe’s other than our own. Now, it is truly bedtime, my son. Get back under the covers.”

Obeying his father, Seto lies down. But a tiny smirk kept crept across his lips. “Someday, when my dragon companion chooses me, I want to travel outside of our village.”

Tawasaki pulls the covers back over his son, tucking Seto in once again. “When your dragon companion comes to you, I know you will have full responsibility, and go only where you’re supposed to. Never venture outside of the Forests of Kimo, my son. The world is vast and dangerous.”

“And exciting…” Seto added in under his breath.

Seto watches as his father blows out the blue-waxed candles, and shortly after his father gives him a small kiss to the forehead. “Goodnight, my son.” And Seto listens as his father exits the room. Closing his eyes, Seto turns to his side, and silently he drifts to sleep.

--

“Telling your son a bedtime story? How sweet of you, Tawasaki.”

Tawasaki turns to the source of the voice, it deep and harsh. He stares in awe at his High leader. Gozaburo sat there at Seto’s desk, examining the papers that Seto had already accomplished finishing.

“High Gozaburo,” Tawasaki turns, only slightly bowing. “Why are you in my home? Especially at this hour?”

“Forgive me,” Gozaburo stands to his feet. He holds out a large, red-covered book. It appeared dusty and worn. “I forgot to hand this over to Seto earlier today. I meant to give it to him.”

“Oh,” Tawasaki smiles. He takes the book. “Thank you.” Moving over to the desk, Tawasaki sets the book beside three others. “But I do ask that you knock the next time you forget something.”

“Of course,” Gozaburo smirks. “By the way, Tawasaki. I couldn’t help but overhear you talking with Seto. I had not thought of him asking you to tell of the legend…”

“He asked, so I told,” Tawasaki answers flatly. He gives his leader a stern expression.

Gozaburo, with arms at his waist, nods his head. “Haven’t you -- forgotten a part?”

Frowning, Tawasaki turns his back to his leader. It was shameful to do such, but he dare not discuss with the High lord the secrets of the legend he had not told Seto. “H--he cannot know…”

“And why shouldn’t he?” Gozaburo asks, licking at his lips. “You are his father. Aren’t you concerned about the remainder of the prophecy? Do you not fear the one with the marking of a green wolf? That one is to bring destruction upon our tribe.”

Swiftly, Tawasaki turns to glare at his ruler. He had such rage in his eyes, and nearly he identified Seto’s own stern, stubborn appearance. “My son is not to know! I will see to it that he never leaves this village. That way, he shall never meet any from outside!”

“Such a risky task,” Gozaburo softly replies. “But if that is your wish, Tawasaki, I shall not try to stop you.” Gozaburo turns, heading for the main door. He takes a brief pause, just inches from the door. “Tawasaki, I must warn you. If your son were to discover the truth, your fatherly guilt will bestow a son’s hate for his father.” Gozaburo slowly turns his head, giving Tawasaki a final sinister grin. “If he were to find out, I will not take responsibility for your mistake.”

As Gozaburo makes his departure, Tawasaki lowers himself into a chair. He sat, shaken up at the thought of his son discovering more to the legend of the marking. And Tawasaki feared the one with the marking of a wolf. He could only pray that, if that time were to come, that his son would forgive him.

-End Chapter One-

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