freedom seires: book 1: the savior chp 1

Prologue
A Long time ago, in a place called Fredonia, there lived a boy. A boy with dreams of immortality and power. This boy grew up, as all boys do, but he grew to become a monster. His name was Zarek, and his soul was filled with a bloodthirsty anger. At the age of 16, at the start of his manhood, he killed King Seber, and took the throne for himself. He raided every town, took what was not his, and killed everyone who stood in this way. It was a dark time, and the King ruled with an iron fist, smashing every threat, every opponent. Many were killed, but after they realized he couldn’t be stopped, the people submitted to him, and went on with their lives. Well, everyone but the people of Kingsville. They plotted against him, trying to find a weakness, something to get him off the throne. Then, they found it. The weaknesses, so powerful that they could not only get him off the throne, but make him flee, and never return.
         Then, the night before they planed to attack the capital, the king raided their village, killing everyone. The people of Kingsville tried to fight, but there were too many soldiers. So, in the dead of night, when they knew that there was no hope, a woman by the name of Sabena took her 3 month old baby boy, and hid him in her house.  She kissed his forehead, and ran out of the house, tears streaming down her face, and stood by her husband, and was killed.
         The next day, as the sun rose from the east, the king searched the village, looking to destroy the plans of his enemies, making sure, that once and for all, he would be safe. He searched almost the whole village, finding nothing but two women, hiding in a house, which he killed. He began to leave, but saw a house in the woods, and walked towards it, wiping the blood from his blade. He pushed open the door, and saw a little baby boy sitting on the table, crying, with scrolls in his hands.
         The king slowly walked up to the boy, and drew his sword. The baby looked at the king, and their eyes locked. King Zarek lowered his sword, and felt, like for the first time in his life that he was looking at an equal, someone just as important, just as powerful as he was. He stared at the little boy, and saw that the baby would grow to be powerful and a ruler. He didn’t know why, but something about this baby scared him. Zarek hadn’t been scared of another human every scene he killed his parents. He walked up to the boy, and placed his thumb on the boy’s forehead, feeling the power surging though the boy, so pure, so untouched by evil. The boy’s pureness frightened the king, for he had never met anyone so innocent of all the bad in the world. This boy knew only love and hope in a world filled with evil and suffering. The king pressed down slightly on the baby’s head, and then sighed, and dropped his hand. He drew his sword, raising it up until it rested on the boys shoulder, the blade near his neck. The boy’s eyes widened, and then, he screamed. It was a terrible, pain filled scream, and it brought Zarek to his knees just by hearing it. The baby boy rose into the air, ever so gracefully, and king Zarek was forced down to his knees by an unseen force. Wind howled in his ears, blowing the scrolls all around the room. The boy stopped screaming, and looked down  at the king, looking much older then he actually was. For a moment, the king caught a glimpse of the boy when he was older, with a sword in hand, standing in front of a castle, an elf on one side, a dark haired boy on the other. The boy was powerful, and seeking something. Then, the vision was gone, and the baby screamed once more, and after a flash of Scarlet blood erupting from the boy, King Zarek saw nothing but darkness, and in his mind heard, “This is the child of the prophecy. He shall defect you, and bring justice to the land you have destroyed.” The king opened his eyes to see that he was in his throne room, lying on the ground, covered in blood, the words still echoing in his ears.
The king immediately shouted out orders, and got a horse and his finest men, and rode to Kingsville, intent on killing the boy, but when he reached the house, it was empty of the boy and the scrolls, but splattered in blood.
The baby boy sat on a she wolf’s back, smiling and laughing. He was covered in dried blood, and had wounds down his face, stomach and legs. On his forehead was a glowing green star, glowing, softly pulsing. The wolf walked into her den, and began to clean the baby. He giggled and clapped his hands as the wolf’s tongue ticked his when it wiped away the blood. “Ma-ma”, he whispered, and stroked the wolf’s soft fur. He was safe, and happy. If only he knew how shortly this would last. 

Chapter 1
The sharp rocks dug into his bare feet, cutting them and making him wince in pain. Sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging them, making it hard to see.  He ran by house after house after house, at an unbelievable pace, sprinting ahead of all the guards chasing him, leaving them in the dust. Along the stone road he ran, but he didn’t slow down, for he couldn’t get caught. He needed the things that he stole.  Finally, the houses and the village were out of sight, and he could see the forest, not even a mile ahead.
A flaming arrow flew past his head, making him quicken his pace. The guards were gaining on him, shooting more and more arrows at him, one so close; he could feel the heat of the flame near his right ear. He ran faster and faster, running with all his might, trying to get to the forest, the only place he might be safe. Safe! That thought made him push ahead, using up his last bit of energy as he reached the woods at last.
He slowed down, but didn’t stop. Pricker bushes and sharp sticks stabbed at him, cutting his face and neck. Then, he heard the guards stop. Slowly, he turned and peered out of the bushes. The guards were arguing because they thought that the woods were haunted. Nobody went in the Treetop Woods, because they thought they would never come back. One of the guards turned and walked away from the woods. Two more followed. /The boy smiled. This was just what he thought they would do. They were scared. One man, with a thick, silver stump over his left hand yelled at the soldiers, telling them that they had to find the boy. None of the soldiers listened to this man, and the man couldn’t seem to follow his own advice and follow the boy into the wood. He finally turned and walked away too, after realizing he had lost control over the men.  Then, one by one, the guards walked away from the woods, slowly, for they knew that the king would punish them for not catching the thief.
The boy left his hiding place from the bushes and ran at a jog and smiled. He still had every thing he needed. He wouldn’t need to go to that village for a while, so he need not worry.
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The boy ran and ran. He ran as the early sun rose, and he didn’t stop until the sun was setting and the sky was pink.  He wanted to stop, he wanted to rest, but he couldn’t, for nobody, not even he was foolish enough to spend the night with a full moon in the Treetop Woods unarmed and alone. Finally he came out of the woods, welcomed by muddy ground and the night sky with the full moon casting a dim glow on everything, making the world around him seem softer then it did during the day when the sunlight reveled all the wrong with the world. No matter what anyone said, it was the light that brought bad, not the dark. As far as he knew, the king only traveled when the sun was high in the sky, afraid of the night elves and their deadly bows. The mean and wicked needed light for people to see them, and they were powerless in the dark.
         Around him was a long crooked river, filled with clear water. This river turned into the forest, and then into the kingdom, watering all the people and crops in the king’s rule. After the river, the land was dry, and cracked, useless for the farmers and housing. On the left, boulders the size of houses was stacked up, ready to fall any minute. 
He was out of the forest, on the other side, out of the kingdom. Finally, he was out.
He sat down on a rock by a river, and took a long, ragged breath. He slowly got up, and knelt down near the water and drank and drank, and he realized how wonderful the water tasted. He could feel the cold, clear moisture trickle down his parched throat, numbing the pain. 
The boy ran over to the boulders and pulled out a frayed, but long and sturdy rope, invisible to any one unless they bent down and crawled under the rocks and groped around in the pitch black.  He hoisted it over his shoulder and started to run again. That rope was the key to getting to his home.           
The boy ran for a short distance, following the river, until he came to a cliff. The river ended there, leaving a foaming white waterfall in its wake, so loud that the boy’s ear drums where about to burst. Below the cliff, he could see where the water fall crashed down onto the water below, and he could smell the salty sea air; The Ocean and the only one that he knew of. It ran up and down the east coast of the kingdom, and was one of the main reasons that the east cost was the capital of the kingdom.  He sprinted along the edge, until he found it. A steel arrow jammed into the ground, about a mile away from the waterfall. He tided a secure knot to the arrow and threw the rope down. 
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the rope and jumped. He slid faster and faster, until the rope ended. Holding on to the rope with one hand, he looked down. There was a ledge to jump on a few feet down. He let go of the rope, and free fell down to the ledge below. 
The ledge was the opening to a cave. Inside, were two beds made up of woolen blankets, a tub filled with water and some food on top of a moldy looking blanket.  The boy walked in and rushed over to the bed closest to the opening.
         A boy of his age with black, shaggy hair lay there sleeping, pale and sickly looking. Quickly, he took out four purple-ish leaves and started a small fire and put some water over it in a small pan. Then, he grabbed the pan, and while crushing up the leaves and putting them into the water, he walked over to the boy and gave the sick child the medicine in the water and put an extra blanket on top of him. Then he shook the boy gently and said, “Drake, wake up. Come on, wake up!” Drake stirred, opened his eyes and yawned. He smiled and said just two words, “Thank you,” before grasping the hot pan and slowly drinking the hot tea.
         As Drake drifted off to sleep, the boy made supper. As the sky turned a deep blue, Drake whispered, “Finally, we’re safe.” The nameless boy smiled and sighed, “For now."