Chapter 1 (part one)

It was dark in the mansion of a home. A few lamp lights sparked in spite of the violent storm raging outside. It was calm inside; nothing was moving in the tainted darkness and all remained silent with the exception of the violent wind outside. A small blue glow peaked out of one of the rooms. It was very faint, but still noticeable. Moving closer to the room and into it, there stood a woman next to a mounted sword in the center of the room. The glow seemed to emanate from her; it clung to her like a mist. Her hand caressed the blade of the short and broad sword, while her blue eyes gleamed at it's appearance.

She danced around the sword, her blond hair and loose robes floating about. Her white wings twitched with each movement. As she was finishing a round when she floated off to a corner of the room which revealed itself to be an opening. The angel of a woman glided to the bed nestled in the left hand corner where a young man slept. Her soft face gazed over his face as her hand caressed it. A soft, smooth, and feminine voice sprung fourth from her lips, "Wake up, Tempest."

Tempest sat upright in a matter of seconds. His dark brown hair ruffled and his brown eyes opened and sleep stained. After realizing that he was no longer dreaming he calmed down. "Some dream.." he muttered to himself. He looked around the room. A warm light filed in from the door and slipped through the dividing walls opening. "It's morning already?" Tempest questioned himself still taking in the new day.

"Master? Are you awake? Breakfast is ready." A voice said from the other side of the wall.

He sighed at this and responded, " Gale, please don't call me that. Tempest works just fine."

"Y-yes.." she said trying to refrain from calling him "master", "I'll have your meal for you if you want it.

Tempest sighed again, "Take it down stairs. Tell Gust that you both have to get use to me eating at the table with both of you. My parents never liked it when you two acted as servants and neither do I. I'll be down in a few minutes."

"Yes, sir." she said quickly ending the conversation.

Tempest shook his head, “What have you left me with..”. He stepped out of bed in his light grey night wear and reached over to his wardrobe. He fumbled for the handle, realizing at the same time that the lamp light that illuminated his room the rest of the way was out. “Great… And here I thought that I had trouble with those two letting me eat with them. Now I have to sneak by them to get some oil from the cellar. For now, I need to get some clothes.” He reached in the wardrobe and pulled out a brown tunic and cloth pants. With what little light there was he began to dress.

Tempest moved from behind the wall to where the sword lay, fully dressed and hair kempt. He gazed at the sword, cringing at the meaning it held. “What have you left me with.. Father.” he had thought to himself, “An orphan forced to live with a failing fortune. All for the sake of being a hero…” He placed a hand to his head and silently spoke, “What sort of hero dies with his wife without a thought of their child.” Tempest gave the sword a small glint of a hateful stare and then turned towards the exit. Without looking back he went down to the dining hall for breakfast.