As the sun fell behind the line of trees to the north, Kirin emerged from the forest, as happy a ten year old could be. He trotted along the path to his village, the red light from the setting sun, reflecting marvelously off his silver hair. This was his favourite time of day, for his grey could see much more easily in this dim light.
Kirin reached the cobble stone bridge that crossed the river sepating the road from his small village. He saw a man holding a rake looking upset. At once Kirin knew that something was wrong. He tried to get by the man who was inentionaly blocking the way.
Leave the man said.
But Kirin did not understand, this was his home why should he leave? Cant you tell when your not wanted? Now get out of here before I kill you! The man was clearly very agitated. Then Kirin realized that the man was trying to protect him from something. But unlike most children, he hated being protected, so this just made Kirin furious.
He rushed past the man, and ran right up to his house. No one was inside. This was clearly bad. Something was going on. His little sister, six years old, fell into his arms crying. We must help them. Mother and Father, we must help them!
What is it Farey he asked her, trying to remain strong for her sake.
Through her sobs she replied The townspeople are angry, they are shouting weird things calling us weird names like rillisian they have mommy and daddy and they are going to hurt them!
Kirins back grew stiff. His muscles, barely devoloped, but still strong for his age, flexed. He gathered himself and mentaly prepared for battle. At only ten he had more self dicipline then the average man aquired in his intire lifetime.
Just then, his mother, her golden blond hair flowing behind her ran to Kirin and Farey. She yelled something, inaudible at first but then Kirin understood as she came closer. It was one word. And he would never forget it. Run!
And that they did. They ran as fast and as hard as they could. They ran until they couldnt anymore. They ran until the distant shouts of the angry village and of their dying parents were drowned out by the howling wolves. Until their tears were dried by the wind. Run. The word echoed in his mind. It gave him speed, it gave him a will to live and fight for survival, it gave him a will to climb to the top no matter what it took, it gave him the strength to drill himself into the dust training to be faster, swifter, quieter and better. That one word transformed him...
(This message has been edited by moderator (edited 03-04-2003).)