Prologue

“The strength to change is the strength to stand”

“Huff, huff, did I lose them?” A black haired, black eyed eight year old boy was holding two heavy looking swords. He was running across the forest. The upper right part of his chest was lightly cut. The boy didn’t know what to do but was sure he shouldn’t stay at one place for long. The boy heard dogs barking. “They found me? The boy mumbled. There was no hope of running. He must now make a choice. If he runs they would reach him then he dies. If he stays he will die. “I guess there’s no other choice.” The boy took a stand. He unsheathed the two heavy looking swords. He had no idea how to use them but for some reason he felt an uncanny familiarity about them. The barking became louder. Anxiety filled the boy, he was shivering. Death was closing in the boy started to cry.