4:30 am, Sunday August 31, 1012 A.D.

Ding Doooooong! The bells pound on young Nickolas’s ears like they were a battle drum. “ 4:30 bells already?” groaned little Nick as he slumped out of his bed. Oh, how he wanted, so badly, to sleep just a little more.

Nick had deep sea blue wide eyes. His hair was the color of shiny, desert sand. He was lean and healthy.

However, he turned eight years old three days ago, and needed to begin training as a squire. Then he would be a courageous, loyal, strong, and intelligent knight!

But Tomorrow he was needed in the of Walancé Academy of Raiders or W.A.R. He was needed for Sir Bannon Walancé, and Lord Harry Mehgans.

4:32 am, Training

Nick dressed into his woolen skirt and slapped his leather belt on and sprang outside. Suddenly, he saw a boy, around his age, picking on another boy of around seven, who was almost skinned on his thin, scrawny, bloody forearm.

“Hey!” Nick called as his voice bounded of the streets, houses, and walls, straight towards the boys.

Nick was super surprised with his own courageous words and did the only thing that made sense to him, he was taking steps toward the big, buff, but exceptionally handsome bully. Nick made his way through two petrified kids who just blankly stared and gaped at him. Nick was a little scared but this was good. More training here. “Hey!” Nick said bravely again. “Leave that boy alone!”

He could hear one of the two kids whispering to another, “Pssst. That’s the Zack I was telling you about. The bully who leaves every child he picks on, half-dead.”

Nick shuddered at that thought but kept going. He didn’t want to act like a careless coward. Plus, if what he heard was true, he needed to save the seven year-old’s skin. Even more, a squire was brave. And he was a squire in training.

4:38 am, The First Fight.

“What? No, you stupid boy!” Rasped the bully a few seconds after Nick told him to stop bullying. The bully took a few steps to Nick, shoving the poor boy he was bullying down to the bloody, cold ground. His emerald green, almond shaped eyes glared at Nick, piercing him like a sword would through his stomach. His long, wavy, and curly brown hair reached his eyebrows easily. The lower part of his face was a broad U. The top of his head, like a small bottle-cap. He had thick, long fingers that were always a bit curled at the bottom~ except when they were spread out.

“You think you your’re so smart, huh? He growled.

“Yes.” Nick said proudly, a grin forming rapidly.

“ You wanna pick a fight with…” he said, but stopped at ‘with’, . “The great Zack?” He screeched and continued in a sing-song voice going crescendo; though it wasn’t that good singing.

“ Sorry.” he said clearing his throat. “ Need to work on that,”

“Really need to,” Nick said. “ And yes. I want to pick a fight you. He took out his trusty, but small lance that he used as a sword.

Zack took out a small polearm sword. The fight had begun. Screaming their best battle cries (which were merely girl screams), they advanced on each other, their weapons raised high in the air.

CLANG! CLASH! Whenever the weapons were in contact, they had a tiny, warm, orange-yellow spark or two flew off to nowhere land . Nick jabbed at Zack’s left forearm, but he dodged. Well, almost. About a sixteenth of an inch deep, an inch and a half wide cut appeared. Zack grimaced in the searing pain. and then had this fiery glow in his emerald eyes.

He pointed to Nick, and then made an indication of his hand cutting his neck. Nick shivered with fear, but he didn’t show it. He slashed again, but this time, Zack dodged fully. He smiled. Then with a deafening shout, he brought his sword down on Nick’s hand. The needle-sharp blade sliced it.

Nick had a huge headache. His vision was was blurring, and going out of focus. Then he closed his eyes, and slumping, he fell to the stone, cold street.

12:05 pm, Lunch Aid

Nick was taken into a small hit at the heart of the town by the three people watching him fight zack.

“Get some water! Quick!” shouted the scrawny boy whose forearm was almost skinned.

Nick was lying on a soft, silk bed in deep sleep while the three people were aiding his injuries.

Oh, Nick was in one wonderful dream. He was a ballerina prancing in a garden. “Ooh la la,” he muttered out loud. But a vicious monster came. “Up!” it roared. “Wake up!” Wake up? What?

Suddenly, Nick was back in his senses.

“Don’t you ‘ooh la la’ me!” said a little voice. It was the boy he saved from Zack. “Thanks!” he squeaked. “ Zack ran away after he sliced your hand off.”

Nick, who was already bright red on the cheeks of the embarrassment of ‘ooh la la’, turned an even brighter shade.

“Anyway, i’m Xavier. Julia will bring lunch with Mason.”

Xavier had honey-hazel wide, round eyes glimmering in the bright sun. He was very thin, and he had pretty large feet and hands. He had straight, long, light brown hair streaming to the bottom of his neck.

“Lunch is ready!” A high, soft voice called out from a hut. The aroma filled the air with joy.

“Yes! Lobsters for lunch with toast and cheese!” Continued a British accent.

‘That must be Mason’ Nick figured. He’d heard Mason talk about Zack a few hours earlier, but never actually saw him. He’ll soon see Mason and Julia.

Finally, after a refreshing lunch, Nick continued training. He will have a very, very, very, long following day. He’ll meet more people like Zack. He’ll have new friends, but he won’t ever forget his new enemy.

He had to train with only a right hand. But he was sure he would be a great knight. He will follow the code. He will be in the highest order, The Pholkzovian order. But it all started here.