The Chronicles of Kaiden


Book One – Origins

Artwork by Celeste Sievers

Chapter One – The Beginning of an Eternity

“Damn!” Kaiden swore as he shakily began to stand as the dust was just beginning to settle about him.

He reached down and took hold of the wooden stake that was imbedded into his side; Kaiden grimaced slightly as the stake came loose.  With a feint thud of wood clinking the bloodied soil the stake as well as a sick sputter of blood fell amongst the stones beneath his feet.  The pain was surprisingly minimal, and in a few hours time it would subside completely as the deep lesion closed.  Being half-demon was not half bad sometimes.

He leisurely glanced around the newly created battlefield making sure that the dead were not arising.  It was not the first time that he had stood on the edge of a town encircled with corpses.  In fact it seemed as if it was happening more and more as the years waned on.  The demons that had perished in the Great War and arisen from the hereafter only to realize that resurrection did not necessarily denote rejuvenation.  As a temporary solution the demon elders erected camps to hold these horrors until something more permanent could be established.  He and his motley crew of knights were charged with regulating these encampments, but all too often did the camps end in devastation.

Even though Kaiden loathed being appointed leader he was quite good at it.  His proficiency in combat along with an unrelenting desire to fix the wrongs of his past created a leader worthy of future lore.  He had requested that his second in command, Kane, lead the rest of the knights back East to base and rest up while he wrapped up a solo mission abroad in the West.  Kane new Kaiden well enough to let him go rogue every once in a while.  He knew the rules; if Kaiden did not return within a fortnight the Calvary would come for him and avenge his death to a man if necessary.

At an even six feet Kaiden was not tall, but he was by no means short either.  Kaiden’s eyes were always described as being a deathly blue; his eyes were lackluster and lifeless at first glance, but upon closer scrutiny his gaze indicated a deep sense of grief and unwelcome familiarity with battle.  His skin was coarse from the numerous nicks and scrapes he had received during battle.  Like his overcoat his mane and whiskers were a rustic auburn like a dark roast of coffee.  Behind his coat a single holster held his ivory revolver.  At twenty-three Kaiden had seen a lifetime’s worth of encounters, which had ultimately honed his skills as a combatant but in the end it, was his soul that had taken the damage.

Has father, Draken, had taught him to wield the family sword.  Most of his brethren were skilled in one art or another, but only the Lunguard family could brandish the famous, as well as infamous, Crescent Blade.  Besides the ability to wield this bringer of pandemonium the Lunguard family also had the supernatural ability to perfect more than one combat style.  Draken was legendary for wielding the Crescent Blade as well as his now equally famous rapier, Foreshadow.  Kaiden had taken a more unconventional approach, against his father’s wishes, by wielding the Crescent Blade along with an old earthly revolver.  Even though Kaiden used specially imbued bullets for his trademark revolver his father still goaded him over for his personal preferences.

The Great War between the demons and the wyrms had long since passed, but his father still clung to the old rules of conduct.

“You disgrace the Lunguard family name with your unorthodox behavior,” his father used to spat at him during their bouts of training.

Even though the anguish of his father’s memory still plagued his thoughts it did not matter.  He was far away from the birthplace of his ancestors.  He needed to concentrate on the task at hand.  He was to set out towards the Cerulean Mountain Range to the West.  Evidently a rather formidable wyrm from the Great War resided within’ the heart of Cerulean Range.  Common belief stated that all of the great wyrms had perished in the war, but in all actuality many had fled to the ruined corners of Earth at the closing of the war.  Over the past couple of years dozens upon dozens of these foul beasts had been discovered and slaughtered, many by Kaiden’s hand.  There were even rumors that Mistcabre, the dragon general, may still be alive somewhere within the turmoil of the new world.

He quickly gathered his thoughts and began methodically sifting through the corpses of those that he had killed.  The first time he had rifled through a dead man’s belongings he had felt sick, but over the years he had become accustomed to it.  He no longer felt any emotion for those that he had killed.  He killed them not out of pleasure or hatred; he did it for duty and defense.  After picking through a majority of the bodies he had amassed a fair amount of silver and trinkets, and it was now time for him to leave this place of butchery.

He gathered his belongings and set out.  He would have liked to ride, but unfortunately when a battle begins involving more than a dozen or so creatures the horses die first.  Sadly his horse had been the first one to perish.

Nevertheless, he needed to head onto the next town.  If his memory served correctly there should be a small town on the other side of the Bloodwing Woods that he crossed through many moons again when he had ventured to this region with his father those many moons ago.

He sped athwart the open field in between the woods and the destroyed demon village.  The sun was setting and he would rather fight in the woods than fight upon the open plains.  By nightfall he should be along the Eastern edge of the woods.

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