Chapter 3, Page 1: Trial By Fire

The days went on without an end, the last things the old man remembers is the dulling of his mind and the feeling of that steel key in his palm.. poison was the last thing he had muttered before falling away and was awoken in a torture chamber..

There had been no sleep for four days at straight, the first two days he had been screaming, the third he had been broken down and on the fourth.. There was nothing, not even a whimper from the old man..

The horrors he would hear but never see, the screams that would echo through him.. The scars he would carry, if he would ever walk away..

He had been whipped, burned, cut and at some time, his jaw had been shattered.. But with his abilities, that waned every single hour, he had been able to heal himself to a certain extent..

The old man was near the brink of death, not from the pain, but from the hunger and the thirst the days had brought upon him.. He wouldnt care for the screams, not for the smell of blood and death..

Because on the first day, they had offered him food, just like in his cell.. But this time, he would know what kind of meat they would have in their food.. No animal had he seen, but had his ship ventured but a few more miles, they would have come to a graveyard for ships..

Alas, it was to late.. He knew now that the "tastiest meat ever" had never been from an animal, but from human prisoners.. He would never forgive himself for not seeing through the cannibals true intention when he woke up..

At the midday of the fifth day, the old man is once more burned, this time on his right wrist.. He feels like a cattle, being branded by its owner, unable to run away from the seering pain..

"Leave us!" a mighty voice spits out in the darkness, but the old man cares nothing for what it has to say, the only thing that walks through his mind is the smell of his own charred flesh..

The footsteps are heavy, a man clad in plate armor stands next to the old man, a presence that would bring a chill even to the hardest of men..

"What have they done to you.." the voice mumbles out, as if it would know the old man, or as if it would take pity on his wretched appearance.

The old man doesnt flinch, he merely stares, watching every heartbeat near him and is forced to listen to screams that never end..

"Allkresh.. Old friend.." the voice utters, and forces a water bottle to the old mans mouth and watches him drink it, with a cold and dead stare..

There was nothing more that the old man was afraid of, rather than hearing that name ever again.. The sudden fear that struck the old man, was enough for him to shut out every noise but the faintest beating of the nearest heartbeat..

"Allkresh.. It is time, you have been here for long enough.. I had given them specific orders not to hurt you, nor damage you in any way.. But, it would seem that you -once- more had that unflawed passion within you.. Do not worry about your captors, they have been punished.. You are free to go, after you have received a proper meal.." the voice, dark as night and with no trace of comfort, pity or respect speaks out, before unlocking the old man from his chains and walking away..

"Dont keep me waiting again, will you?" and the opening of a door is the last thing the old man recalls before collapsing on the cold stone floor..

Five long years had passed, since John had entered the academy. Five years for training, away from home and away from womens warmth.. But there was nothing he would ever have loved more than the feeling of being part of something, he was no longer a cadet, he was a soldier..

The soldiers were lined up, there was no flaw in the ranks that spread out before the mighty commanders.

"103rd regiment! This is our day! This is the dawn of a new era! No longer will we be held in the shadows, no longer will we be kept down because of our heavy losses!" the commander roars to his men, filling them with bloodlust for the coming battle..

He was young, but every other commander would despise his way of acting, for two long years, they had sent the 103rd regiment to the most dangerous missions, in which they would try and get him killed.. But every time, he would come back home, with barely any injuries, but every battled twisted his soul.. He was beggining to suspect something..

"I, High Commander Tiberius Threllgor Allkresh, have survived the most notorious of battles and I have never lost! Before me today, stands the Kingdoms most strongest, bravest men and soon, everyone shall know of your names!"

John was amongst the 103rd, this was his real first battle.. His trial by fire and before him stood the only man he would think was mightier than his own father..

"For King Menethil! FOR LORDAERON!" Threllgors mighty roar is followed by his men, they all repeat what he shouts before rushing to battle..

Before John was enveloped in the battle, he saw his commander engaging battle..

His black and heavy armor was frightening and so was the bloodlust he would show his men, the fear of being his enemy was the only thing that kept the other commanders from engaging him themselves.. Because they knew, that beneath his black armor, was an even darker soul.. One they had created themselves..

After the battle was done, barely 300 of the 1000 stood.. Threllgors losses were heavier than usual and somehow, he felt that this would be his last battle..

John had slaugthered every man that had entered him in battle, this was his trial and he refused to fail.. And he was the first that saw it, the golden eagle banner that lay on the ground.. Bloodied and ripped..

"Commander.." he said, before turning over the banner. Johns wounds was not severe, but he would not walk out of the battle unscarred..

Threllgor removes his helmet and his gaze fixates on the banner.. His dark skin was gleaming in the setting sun from the sweat..

"A setup.. This.. Was a setup.." he whispers into the air, before looking up to the hill that they had charged from.. As far as the eye could see, there was now archers and Threllgor felt his end was near..

"High Commander Tiberius Threllgor Allkresh the fourth, your treachery towards the Kingdom of Lordaeron and King Menethi-" the messenger never gets to speak to an end, Threllgor had already jumped on his horse, holding the golden eagle banner high, he rode away from the battle..

John didnt know what to think, was his new hero a traitor? or was this really a setup.. The archers fires their strung bows and the area is filled with the whistling sound of their arrival towards the men that survived..

John wakes up in a tent, he hears voices outside, but is unable to hear what they speak of.. The last thing he remembers is taking cover behind a house, but not without getting hit by three arrows..

He looks around in the tent but the darkness conceals everything.. And when the cloth is removed, he looks away from the piercing light but is able to see Threllgor standing there, smiling..

The old man wakes up, tied to a horse that is walking slowly, his wrist still aching from the burn..

He smells the air around him and the scent of Threllgor is sheer and almost burning in his nostrils.. The old man thinks before he falls asleep, "I have to know.. How the hell did he survive.."