rUNNING, IT FELT LIKE HOURS OF ENDLESS RUNNING.
Saran couldn't remember how long he'd been running.

    They'd been strolling across the plains of Alania outside Balifor when they came, the Ryu-Jin were  attacking the city!
    A group of six came swooping down from the sky, some in the Human/Dragon state called 'Warrior' Dragon and and assortment of Fire's and Thunders, all lead by a huge Ice Dragon.
      "Run Saran!"  His father pushed him and his mother towards Balifor while drawing his sword in a futile attempt to delay the oncoming assault.
Somewhere along the way he'd been separated from his mother, his chest hurt and his legs burned from all the unaccustomed effort, but he kept running, running as fast as he could.
    Something swooped down in front of him, Saran stumbled and fell to the hard earth.
Looking up he froze as the most acute fear he'd ever experienced took hold of him, towering before him was the most awe inspiring creature he had ever seen.
    A majestic Ice Dragon standing three stories tall was breathing down Saran's neck.
    The huge iron gates of Balifor opened painfully slow, half a dozen men in armor that resembled Dragons came charging out in a 'V' formation.  The man in the lead wore impressive golden plate mail resembling Dragon scales, marking his station was an unnaturally crimson cape, he carried a twelve foot lance the as easily as if it were a twig.
    Halting, something passed between the Dragons and these strangely garbed men, the very air was alive with the immense spiritual power these unearthly beings were vessels to.
    Saran was suddenly relieved of the delirium that had taken hold of his soul, instinct told him to run but his curiosity held him in check.
    The giant Ice Dragon no longer paid Saran any heed, he regarded the armored group of men as one regards a pestersome insect, he and the golden clad warrior met each others gaze.
    Saran thought he noted a slight nod of acceptance pass between the two, and then it began.
    The Ice roared a signal of attack.
    His counterpart obliged him.
    Spreading his wings the Ice sought an advantage in the sky. T
    The armored man put down his visor, and his cape opened and carried him into the sky as well, for it wasn't a cape but a Dragon's wings animated by some mystical means.  Soaring into the sky the two great beings fought an intense battle of wills, the pain inflicted upon their physical forms meant nothing to them, he who bested the other mentally would be the true victor.
    The members of both opposing sides remained out of action as the battle raged across the sky, they were eager to join the fight as well, but out of respect they remained outside the battle.
They knew as well as their leaders did that the battle would be decided when one of the two fell from the sky, defeated.
    Suddenly the golden armored knight landed a stunning blow across the Ice Dragon's snout, a fountain of blood spurted from the wound and the great beast roared in pain and rage.
    Then as his enemy was dazed he barreled into him, knocking the Ice out of the sky.
    As the Dragon fell Saran felt himself coil like a spring, getting ready to run.
    The Ice hit the ground hard, snapping it's left wing behind itself and roaring with pain.
    Saran sprang towards Balifor, his little legs pumping as fast as possible, when he reached the city everything would be ok, mother would kiss him and say it was all right and it would be.
    At the gates three men in black robes stood observing the ending fight, the rest of the Dragons were being routed, the Ice summoned enough strength to escape his comrades fate.
    Saran ran to one of the men, he knew they were clerics of Alanis, they would take him to his mother.  "My mommy!  Please, take me to her."  He beseeched one of the clerics.
    The cleric took Saran by the hand and wordlessly led him into the city.

    The very same cleric opened the door to the small waiting chamber were he'd left Saran while conversing with the head of the church.  "I'm sorry child, but your mother and father did not make it back to Balifor alive."  He said in the neutral voice he always used to report these tragic occurrences.
    Saran's face fell, he felt like crying but he couldn't, all he could think of were those Dragons and the men who had beaten them.  "Sir."  He called the cleric.
    "Yes child?"  Replied the somber priest.
    Saran shifted uncomfortably, "Who were those men who fought the Dragons?"  He lifted his face, his eyes were filled with a chilling determination.
    "They were her Glorious Majesties holy knights child, the Dragoon's of Alanis, blessed with the holy power of destroying those abominations."  He spat the word.
    "Dragoon's,"  He mumbled softly to himself, "Were will I go now?"
    "The church has decided upon your placement child,"  Replied the priest, "Since you have no family you will be sent to the orphanage under the care of a man named Father Thwait."  The clerics face softened a little, "He is a kind hearted man, and will take good care of you."  The cleric handed a silver mirror, a fine toothed comb, and a main gauche to Saran.  "These were on your parents bodies when we found them, they belong to you now."
    Wordlessly Saran took the last memoirs of his parents.