Ch 1: The Wanderer Part 2

That's when fright struck the robber's face. He backed up with his eyes wide, and his feet stumbling to keep himself from falling backwards. In less than a second a man clad in black with a sword strapped to his back stood in his face. Black hair soaked in water and his eye glowed red as he stared into the robber's heart. The robber regained his balance and began to study the man quickly. "Who the hell are you? You're interrupting my fun." The man only smiled a large evil grin. He began to slowly walk toward the robber, taking out his katanna from its sheathe. It ricocheted the lightning  flashes like a beam of light and the blade was made of a reflective steel. It looked almost indestructible. "Fun, huh? Is that what they call it? I could only look on it as demonic. And demons have no place in this world." The robber then lifted up both his hands, the lightning flashes becoming more constant, as well as the crash of thunder. The robber was wearing a white bandanna over his head. He had a cliche leather jacket with torn pants to match. The only odd thing about him was that he had no shoes. "If I'm a demon then, I'll have a good time eradicating some wanna-be hero." Then came the burst of speed. Sword in both hands, the man only took one step, and then he vanished, only to appear behind the robber who stood there as if he finally realized his wrong. Instead he was only in shock and fell to his knees as the blood began to spurt from his midsection. The puddles turned crimson red and the wanderer just swung his sword to rid the blood off its blade. Even with the rain, he couldn't allow a fool's blood to rust a blade he trusted in. He turned to face the family and then made his way toward them. The family cowered in fear more than they did to the robber that lay dead in his own blood. The man's eyes widened and he realized that he had just killed the man in cold-blood, in front of children no less. He cringed and clenched his fist and took a small bow. He didn't know what to say, but he decided it best if he at least tell them something. "I'm sorry violence has reached your family. Please.... stay safe." With a quick turn on his boot he faced his back to the family who scrambled into their home. He sighed and put a hand on his head as he put his sword up. "This isn't getting any easier. I guess I just have to make my way back home." And so he did, walking past the dead man and crossing a small road to continue walking in another direction. The rain had begun to stop and the man only smiled as he looked up to see a clear sky and a bright white moon shining down upon him. It was a long walk, as when he reached his home it was nearly dawn, and the amazing view from his small house was all but boring. The many colors of the morning made him smile as he entered his ransacked home. It was made of old wood, creaking and cracking in its frame. And abandoned home for someone who had done the same. The inside was different though, with painted tan walls and a decent kitchen that stood in front of him. To his left was a small gathering room which was darker than normal. Snapping one of his gloved hands, the candles shot up in flames, lighting up the house in an instant. Nothing stood in the area. "Must have been my imagination."

Chaper 1: The Wanderer

Wanderer. Few go by this title and yet is so favored by the common people. They hear Wanderer and see a hero prepared to tear off their pale and darkened skin and make the world a brighter place. But a Wanderer is no hero, he only saves those who catch his attention and when the corrupted strike an innocent, physically or mentally. Though this day was unlike a few of the others, for there was a strong downpour of rain on all of the East Coast. Most people tried to stay warm in their metal framed homes. But one man not cowering from the strong amount of water was wearing a black trench coat. It was drenched in water as well as his pants, and his combat-like boots splashed through the numerous puddles. Metal clanked as he continued to walk through the Downtown area of Jhiag City, with many of the poor having rat houses. This metal was that of a sword strapped to the man's back. As this man continued walking and making noise with his boots and his metal beats, he listened for everything around him. His cold black hair that almost went past his eyes was a simple haircut. Not much to notice or care for in any case. Yet his hair was a sign for the weak, but the reasons were just rumors and speculation of his ability and rumors of another planet filled with heroes like him. But he wasn't a hero. Or at least he couldn't consider himself to be one. All he was, was a slave to justice and protection. A pawn in their scheme to make the world a better place. And he had no choice in the matter. He always wished he could stand and watch, to just let things happen... but he couldn't. For some reason, he was the odd man out of his family line. They waited for opportunity, while the man could just thrust a knife in its neck and take it himself before the corrupted got their hands on it. Lightning began to flash, and soon after thunder followed. It was closing in, and giving him notice to not focus on what he was, but what he had to do. He stopped walking. Flash. Thunder. Flash. Thunder.Scream, Flash. That scream was his cue. He could hear it clearly and he was close by, taking out his sword and charging toward that direction. It was some jerk pointing his hand at the family. It was a magic user. The man stopped running to keep himself from being heard and then went silent like the night. Letting the thunder hide his movement. "Do you want your wife to die asshole!? Hand over everything!" "But we have nothing, the local gang took all of our foo-" "Then give me everything else, including the clothes on your backs! Now!" One of the kids decided to back up and refuse, shaking her head. She had pink hair and was wearing a blue dress. Tears were coming from her eyes and the robber pointed his hand at her. "The first to die!" That's when the flash came.

The Silent Sword Legacy

This Story is about a 21-year old man who is known only as a wanderer by the name of Balsavi. The staging is that of an alternate universe around the time period of 2004-2006, with gunpowder and guns in general have finally started making advancement. There is no aircraft, and cars are not even a modern invention. Magic and swordsmanship is still the practice for militaries around the world. The United States government is controlled by an organization known as the Sovereign People. The Mayans continue their survival and have complete control over South America. England has control over half of Europe while Germany is its main enemy with the Nazi rule still strong, but there has been a peaceful standoff for centuries. Russia never existed, and a separate Japanese organization that rules that area, known there as No Man's Land, named so as a warning to foreigners that dare venture near. The rest of the world is ruled by small countries across the border of the Asian continent. China is the only major power, remaining silent and keeping neutrality. In Sovereign, crime is minimal and no one knows as to what the government is up to, except for building up military power and helping the people with enough money to pay for the service. The rest, which is about over 70% of the population, must survive on their own, as if Darwinism was the government's ideology. Thieves steal from thieves, and yet, the majority of people still send children to school, hoping they can learn something to grow up and change this world for the better. Unfortunately, nothing is as it seems in this country, or this world. As a foreigner from the Japanese colonies of Nagasaki, Balsavi has Mayan, Japanese and Sovereign heritage. He has trained himself to be a warrior after his father's early death in the last war, leaving him to be the last surviving male of his family. His duty is to stop government corruption before another war breaks out, and the rest of the world from pain and suffering, eradicating its evil at the source. His only weapon of choice: a long katana, passed along through his family heritage, as well as knowledge of simple fire magic, self-taught as a family heirloom.

Everything is not as it seems in this world, and it is just the beginning..