While Adalhad collected wood for his family's fire tonight, he gazed at the birds and listened to their merry tunes, their colorful plumage glistening in the dusk sun. Strolling along the towering trees, his eyes danced around his surroundings, drinking in the emerald leaves and the moss upon the white bark. Life was everywhere, for it scattered amongst the ground and soared through the air.

Adalhad breathed it all in, percieving the peace of nature and the promise of safety. He withdrew another deep breath, only to catch the slightest redolence of smoke and froze. He lifted his nose to the air, imbibing the odor as the smoke attained to his nose with a stronger force. Adalhad sneezed and relinquished the wood from his arms as they scattered upon the forest floor.

Sighing, he stooped to gather the wood for the second time, feeling slightly irritated. It was then when he caught the glance of smoke, silently drifting through the air in swirling spirals, darker than that of the nearing night. Fear leapt into his heart as he stared into the distance in which his hut was amidst, as was the smoke.

Perhaps his family had already created the inferno? Perhaps they have already gathered their lumber? Adalhad shrugged the thought from his mind and abandoned the wood upon the forest floor. Wiping his hands upon his torn and muddy breeches, Adalhad began his journey home, trudging through brush and snake holes. His breeches tangled upon wandering branches, tearing, but he hadn't a care for his clothing, for it were already in rags.

The moon awoke the night sky with its pale light as he drew nearer to his hut. The nearer Adalhad traveled, the smoke's redolence strengthened. His stomach lurched as his head swam with thoughts. Hoping it was the inferno, he continued onward.

Adalhad reached the opening, eyes widened, and froze within his tracks, rage and fear pouring into him as he gawked upon his flaming hut. How could this be? How had this happened during his absence? Fear tore at his bosom and he sprinted into his home, hoping to discover a breath of life.

The smoke choked Adalhad and scorched his eyes as he evaded it and covered his nose and mouth with his callused hands. By squinting, he endeavored to gaze into the dark cloudy mists and the blazes that nipped at him. Finally, Adalhad spotted several bulges upon the floor and swallowed a lump within his throat. He kneeled before them and examined them closely.

"No," he choked out as he stumbled upon his back, pain swelling within his bosom. Adalhad's family lay there, cold and lifeless amongst the dirt with crimson fluid beseiging their bodies and covering their faces.

Icy beads of sweat rolled down Adalhad's face and back. He struggled to stand, every muscle in his body refusing his command. His head swam with thoughts, dizzying him as he glanced nervously about his surrounds. Moments later, Adalhad realized where he was, and, with fierce ambition, searched for an exit. Almost every escape was sealed by the crackling flames, except one- a window.

Adalhad leapt through it and landed upon the dirt ground, puffs of dust and ash drifting around him from his impact. He ran. His mind was racing faster than his legs. Adalhad hadn't a clue as to where he was running. He was frightened, and he was alone. His only companions were the shadows that eerily clung to the trees.

The trees suddenly caged Adalhad, taunting and teasing his mind. He halted, spinning left and right. Where should he go? What was following him? What should he do? Adalhad wanted to scream, he wanted to yell, he wanted his family.

Adalhad's ankle was suddenly ceased and extracted from under him. He stumbled and plummeted to the ground with face crashing into stone. His head throbbed with pain and oozed blood as his vision dizzied. Blood washed out his mouth and slid down his throat, choking him. Adalhad arose very slowly and spat out the blood, along with a tooth, and swayed where he stood, searching for the thing that gripped his ankle.

He then felt a sharp blow upon his back and sprung forward, slamming into the ground as the air escaped his lungs. Choking on his own blood, Adalhad heaved and panted for just one more gasp of air. He lay there, staring amongst the shadowed trees in agony when a larger shadow loomed over him.

"A survivor." He heard a whisper.

"The only one." Came another along with more.

"Kill him."

"No, make him spill."

"Aboslutely not, we shall work him."

"Take him to the beasts!"

"Silence!" Boomed a voice that shook the earth.

Taciturnity.

"We shall force him to his affliction." Boomed the voice.

The whispers slowly whistled through the trees like the wind as Adalhad's vision blackened . . .



"Wake up, boy!" Boomed a voice that rattled Adalhad's brain. He slowly opened his eyes, only to find a giant of a man looming over him, the man's black beard a wild bush amongst his chin. The man smiled a crooked-toothed grin, "What is your name?"

Adalhad struggled to sit up, but his back protested in agony. So, he lay there in despondecy, biting his bottom lip to cease the groan. This monstrous of a man needn't any knowing of his weakness. The man's lip curled into a sneer as he revealed an axe and held its painfully sharp and frozen blade against Adalhad's throat. "I asked you a question." He hissed.

"A-Adalhad." Came Adalhad's raspy reply as he tried his hardest not to swallow.

The man smiled and withdrew his axe from Adalhad's neck, "Avaracus."

Adalhad gawked upon him, not knowing what to say next or if he should say anything at all. "Where are the whispers?" Slipped the question from his mouth.

The man let out a throaty, obnoxious laugh. "Whispers? You foolish boy, I am The Whisperer."

A jolt of excitement rushed through Adalhad as he finally found the agonizing strength to sit up. "The god?"

Avaracus nodded, "Aye." he then began to grin, "You're a tough lad, surviving that blow." He said as he wielded a sword from a sheath at his side and threw it to Adalhad.

Adalhad watched it as it glistened within the moonlight and landed alongside his feet with a clear ring. He gawked at it. How was he suppose to weild such a monstrous weapon in which he hadn't any skill?

"Adalhad, son of Merron, duel me." Stated the Whisperer.

Fear leapt into Adalhad's heart, "Why?" he asked.

"You are of an ancient bloodline, one that threatens the gods. I can only kill you by fair combat. Now, duel me!" He barked.

Adalhad knew an order when he heard one, and for him to disobey this immortal will only bring him within the midst of his doom. Slowly, he agonizingly stood to his feet, every muscle burning. Adalhad ceased the sword within his numb hands and held it before him. He wanted to release it terribly, for the weight was incredible and tore at his arms. He bit his lip and tightly closed his eyes, preparing for the worst of it.

Avaracus the Whisperer grinned, "If you shall win, you shall continue your life unscathed. If I shall win . . . Your soul is mine for eternity."

Adalhad dumbly nodded and trembled where he stood. Within the very depths of his mind, something whispered for him to retreat. He ignored it. Adalhad couldn't run from battle, not ever! He broadened his stance and held the sword betwixt a sweaty grip, examining the Whisperer intensely.

Avaracus circled him like a starving beast would a prey, holding his barbarous with the greatest of ease. He swung at Adalhad with a cry, his muscles rippling in the moonlight. Adalhad hurriedly and clumsily lifted his sword as their weapons met. The impact shocked Adalhad as his body jarred.

The Whisperer grinned and receded, then came at Adalhad with axe raised high above his head. Their weapons met as his axe smashed the sword out of Adalhad's grip and sent it soaring through the air. He yelped and cradled his aching hand upon his bosom.

Avaracus smiled and leveled his axe upon Adalhad's throat, forcing him down to his knees. The Whisperer's smile curled into a sneer, "You're mine, boy."

Fear increased the speed of Adalhad's heart as his steady breathing soon became random gasps. "I want to go home." he choked out, wishing it was just a bad dream.

Avaracus chuckled and lowered his axe, "What home? I set it ablaze, you foolish boy."

Rage pounded into Adalhad like a hammer, a dark, cold rage he hadn't felt before. "Why?" he demanded with unused valor.

"I believe I've already answered this question." Growled the Whisperer with an icy grin.

Adalhad stood and charged at him, his head ramming
into The Whisperer's abs. The Whisperer let loose a roar as they both tumbled to the ground in a tangle. Adalhad sat atop his chest, thrashing furiously at his face. Avaracus ceased one of his flying fists and rammed into Adalhad's nose. Adalhad soared abaft, his face throbbing and oozing blood. His vision blurred with pain and tears. he had done it now. He was certainly finished.

Adalhad's back had landed upon something hard, cold, and slightly painful as it pierced into his flesh. The back of his head smacked into the hilt of blade in which he laid upon. Adalhad glanced into the darkness and watched an over-sized shadow come ever toward him in an uneven pace.

With the little strength he carried, Adalhad slowly reached for the blade and ceased the hilt. He slowly and cautiously drew it from his back.

Growling, the shadow neared . . .

Adalhad rested the blade abreast his leg, awaiting the right moment as to when the shadow was close in range.

The shadow towered over him, panting heavily, "Boy, you're foolish." Came a low and outraged voice, "You are but mortal, which must explain your stupidity."

He upraised his axe as the pale light of the moon gleamed upon it. The moment arrived as Adalhad shoved hi sword into The Whisperer's stomach with a fierce cry. Warm, black fluid rolled down his blade as he stared into the shadowed face of a murderer. Avaracus gasped, and fell to the forest floor with a groan.

Panting, Adalhad approached this large lump before him, pain and drowsiness overwhelming his body as he crawled toward his befallen foe. The moonlight revealed the Whisperer's pale and mangy face staring amidst the stars, his lifeless and cold brown eyes gazing into the moon.

Adalhad uplifted the sword from The Whisperer's body, and for the first time, noticed it was the Sword of Vice Risen, a legend of a weapon that slaughtered Evil. Vice Risen, the god of gods.

Avaracus's chest hadn't moved, and for a moment, neither had Adalhad's. He had slaughtered an immortal with an immortal weapon. How had he the ability to touch such power?

Adalhad released it for it was not a power of his to use. His eyes danced over the Whisperer's body. His family's death was avenged. Yet, where shall The Whisperer's lead Adalhad's?

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