Destiny
First there is shock. Next comes realization. Finally, there is the pain. There is always the pain. It's neither physical nor mental, for it stems from your inner most soul. The nagging from within yourself that you could have done something…anything, but did not. It's enough to drive most sane men crazy. Normally it does. More than one manager in Angus' short career had left the arena grounds in a hysterical state, never to return, doomed to eternal insanity. The cause? Death. Friends they coaxed into arena combat with promises of fame and fortune that never came to be. All dead. Angus know the price all too well. Countless warriors. Countless deaths. Their pictures spread across the wall of the gigantic Thunderstruck training hall. Names such as Garet Jax, Morgan Leah, and Lude A Kris brought tears to Angus' eyes, but only when he was alone. Only the shadows could know the true depth of his grief. It was time for a change.
AN ALLEY
::knock, knock, knock::
The ancient door creaked open to reveal the granite hard face of a stout Kordaki guard.
"The words." It was not a question, but rather a command.
Duncan only hesitated long enough to look at the dark form of Angus standing next to him. "The blood is the power."
"Welcome. The master of shadows awaits you."
Duncan knew of Angus' involvement in Andoria's underworld, but he had no idea that his esteemed manager was a templar. An elite member of a the Shadow Cult, the most feared guild of thieves, smugglers and assassins in the land.
Angus and Duncan entered a small room in what appeared to be the rear of the building. A man sat behind a large desk in the back of the room. His face was covered by the hood of his ash gray cloak.
"Hawk," The old man began, "It's nice to see you again."
Duncan looked at Angus. "Hawk?"
Angus chuckled. "That's ancient history. I go by Angus now, master. My, uh…hunting days are over."
"You were the best."
"So I've been told. But, that's not why I'm here, Jeroe. I need a favor."
"Of course. Anything."
"I want Duncan initiated."
Jeroe's face clouded over. "Excuse me? He is of the blood, but he's had no formal training. I doubt he knows what it even means to be a full-blooded Kordaki."
"I don't care. I'll provide the training, but he needs that certain edge that the cult can provide. Duncan must know the truth of his heritage. He must hear the words."
"Will you be his ta'kal?" (note: ta'kal = trainer/protector)
"Yes," Angus said turning to Duncan. "Don't worry my friend. I'll take good care of you. You have power in your blood. The cult knows how to release that power. Trust them. Trust me.
Duncan looked from Jeroe to his manager and simply nodded.
Jeroe smiled. "Fine then. We will perform the rite at dawn."
DAWN
The sun began to peak over the horizon and Duncan knew it was time. Angus had drilled him with a whirlwind education of what he was getting into, but he still didn't understand much of it. What power did Angus mean? Duncan certainly didn't feel any special power deep within himself. What was this hunger? That totally confused him. Sure, he enjoyed arena life just as much as the next man, but he didn't…hunger for it.
"Duncan? It's time." Angus whispered.
Duncan turned and walked down the stairs leading toward the basement of the building he had entered the night before.
"Who wishes to enter the service of the Shadow Cult?" Jeroe asked as Duncan entered the room.
Duncan noticed that the old man was much larger than he had first guessed in the small room above.
"I, Duncan Greystone wish to enter." Duncan croaked.
"You and your ta'kal may approach the altar."
Angus and Duncan stepped forward. Duncan began to study the Shadow Cult altar and found he couldn't focus on any specific part of it. As soon as he thought he could pinpoint an image it would suddenly become indistinct and change into something else. Then Duncan noticed the huge kettle in front of Jeroe. Smoke was erupting over the sides and a peculiar green light emerged from within.
"Step forward, Duncan of the Kordaki, and know the truth."
Duncan took another step forward and put his hand into the kettle. He heard Angus' voice fill his ears.
"In pain there is purity. In purity there is life…and death. Know this to be the truth Duncan, for it has been ordained. Within you body is the blood of the Kordaki, an ancient and powerful race. Know the blood is the power, for it also has been ordained and has always been so. Now feel the pain and be purified."
Duncan's entire body erupted into an intense pain that sent him sprawling to his knees.
"Do not remove your hand from the altar!" Angus snapped.
Duncan strained to keep control. It was as if every inch of his body had been set ablaze with searing flames. Then he realized it. The pain was within his body. His blood was actually boiling. The blood was purifying itself.
"Rise and remove your weapon from the pit of shadows, Brother Duncan." Jeroe bellowed.
Weapon? What weapon? Duncan had entered the room unarmed. Suddenly, he felt the tip of something within the pit. He removed his hand to reveal the most beautifully made scimitar he had ever seen. He hefted it a bit and found the blade to be perfectly balanced. It seemed to pulsate within his grasp as if it were alive.
"What…" Duncan began to ask.
"It's name is KILL. For that is what it hungers for, the kill." Jeroe told the young man.
"It's...it's alive!" Duncan gasped.
"Yes, but you are it's master so you must control it. KILL was created from your blood, your life force. It will try to make you give in to bloodlust. You must resist or it's hunger will claim you as well. It's a powerful weapon for the strongest of will."
"I understand."
"Pray that you do, young man. Pray that you do." With that Jeroe faded into the shadow.