Chapter 1

It is told that thanks to the trials and tribulations of a generation, Alma is on its way to true peace-to a future everyone is excited for. Of that generation, one individual's tribulations and sacrifices in particular continue to spark the hearts and minds of the world. Now we tell his tale. His story. His legend.



"And His Name Was Roy the Valiant"
Year: 961AL, 15 years after the War of Scars.

The dust on the arena floor increased as the Concordian League fighters continued to run through the obstacle course. The smell of blood and turmoil stained the ground. The sounds of the clanging of the bright blue energy swords and light iron armor dominated the air. And while the contestants fought and struggled for the prize, up on the upper floors was a large chunk of Alma protruding out of the stairs. Residing on it were two upper class looking individuals, one dressed in a blue kimono with green flower patterns wearing a necklace tucked underneath her wardrobe, and the other was in a dark green robe. Both were peering down with eyes of interest at the soldiers in the arena. On the balcony the atmosphere was a stark contrast to its arena dirt-covered floor counterpart. A large curtain was tied overhead the balcony to provide shade from the harsh and hot day. The air above was also much cleaner than the blood misted air below. The arena as a whole was a round in shape, with four balconies which protruded towards the center of the arena. Between the areas of each balcony were rows of empty, decrepit stone-carved seats, many of which were covered in cobwebs. At one side of the arena was a tunnel which on one side held two large stone doors which would open outward for those who wished to gain entrance to the arena floor. And instead of more doors around the gigantic stadium, there were long stone stairwells. There was little between the seats of those who weren't in balconies and of those who fought on the arena's battleground. On the balcony which had housed life, there was not one hint of conflict until....



(Play to the end of Chapter 1 Pt1)

"Father, do I really need to watch the 3rd seat exams?" Sophia asked in an uninterested tone as she looked towards her father.

She began tugging gently on his robe. Eutychus looked over to his daughter and smiled.

"Come now Sophia, you know it is part of the tradition that at least two of us have to attend the examinations. It is only for the first day of summer every year," Eutychus said as he gently patted the top of Sophia's head full of red hair, which was tied into a pony tail.

"I don't understand why you keep your hair restricted like that," her father stated grumpily as he continued to pat her head.

Sophia tried to swipe his arm away but he instantly avoided her attempt while letting out a laugh. He then laid his arm on the balcony's edge. Her eyes retreated downward as her eyebrows lowered tightly. She let out a sigh as she crossed her arms and extended her lower lip. She then glanced over to her father once again.

"But father, why couldn't you just bring Talmos or Teolio? Or just have them both come instead of me- err I mean us?"

Eutychus's lion red goatie expanded as his nostrils breathed in heavily. His mouth let out a huge sigh and his facial hair deflated to its original status. His eyes then focused down on the arena floor where the finalists were being ordered to line up by one of the proctors. The tone of Eutychus's voice turned more serious as he put his right hand over his mouth, almost as if he were in deep thought.

"Because those two have seen a few of these already and I think it is about time you experienced this a little." He let his right arm fall to his lap and his eyes gleamed back to his daughter as he let out a smile, "besides, how many chances do I get to hang with you anyway?"

"Couldn't have picked something better to do?" Sophia sarcastically said as she remained in the same position as before. This manner caused her father to laugh.

A man in light armor then approached their seats. His armor clanked and clacked as he knelt before them.

"Excuse me sir, miss. The finals are finished," he told them.

Eutychus then looked at the soldier and waved his hand.

"That will be all. Let Celsus know that the Cosmas clan will be down soon."

(end song)

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Down at the arena floor the eight men lined up side by side in the smoldering heat and blood-scented air as they awaited for orders. There was complete silence.

"Alright then!"

Some of the soldiers jumped. Out of nowhere a loud voice came from the opening stone doors of one of the arena's entrances. The deafening silence finally broke and the soldiers straightened up their postures. A tall soldier in dark armor with spiked shoulder plates slowly walked out of the shadows of the entrance hallway. Following him were Eutychus, Sophia and two guards holding lances; however, from the soldiers' positions, one wouldn't be able to tell that royalty was behind the tall and armored soldier. Even though his uniform was pretty standard for a third seat-aside from the spiked shoulder plating-his stature was almost too mighty to be natural. He stood over six feet high and with the heaviest armor one could ever see in their lifetime. Painted white lines traced along the edges of his armor along with old battle wounds. Tied to his back was a rose red cloth which could not even begin to cover his gargantuan physique and armor. On his face were scars almost as sharp as his dark-blue eyes. He also had such unkempt black hair on his head that it coerced Sophia to tighten her pony tail. The little skin that is shown from the armor was war-torn and rough-a fitting appearance for the ruined chest plates of his armor which partially exposed his iron mail.

"Here we go," Eutychus groaned.

"Father, his face and armor, they both appear...tired, if you will," Sophia observed as they walked towards the arena battleground.

"Despite the scars, the beaten skin, and even his battle tested armor, his stature demands pride not melancholy. To the soldiers and even to most of those who just pass by him, Celsus emits a fervor of indomitable energy and resolve-not feelings of forlorn or depression; however, in addition to those feelings of prowess and honor, another emotion will most likely emerge," Eutychus replied.

Before he could continue Celsus halted his pace as glanced over the remaining applicants.

"So only eight of you left huh? That's too many for my taste. Hmph, we gotta do something about this! Anyway, I'm sure you already know about about me...." the soldier then went face-to-face with them and said one word to each as he faced them up close, "I-am-the-fucking-third-seat-Sir-Celsus!"

He then faced his back towards the group of eight soldiers and began walking away.

"What to do? What to do? There's too many of you. I just need only one winner for the third seat position."

He spent several minutes walking back and forth trying to think of a way to handle this situation properly. Then out of the blue Sophia raised her hand up high.

"Why don't you pick one at random?" she asked excitedly.

"Girl are you trying to mock me?" Celsus snapped back.

SLAM!

A loud noise rang through the arena. Most of the soldiers jumped.




THUD!

(Play till end of chapter 1 pt2)

Most of the soldiers jumped yet again. The second noise rang through the arena as two large stone doors collapsed from the entrance hallway. Piece after piece after piece of the entrance slid across the ground. Two large streams of dust spread across the ends of the tunnel and throughout the walls of the arena.

"What the hell?" Celsus yelled as a figure started to approach from the entrance.

The soldiers started to whisper among one another but quickly went silent once Celsus peered back at them.

"Oops my bad. I meant to make my entry less...um...how should I say...dynamic." said the figure.

All the soldiers but one stood shocked as the mysterious figure emerged out of the shadows. He stood there wearing a black tunic underneath a light grey vest. Tied to his back was a long steel stick which seemed to be almost as tall as he was. His boots were torn and muddy while he stood there smiling. Attached to the light grey vest was the Ivor clan insignia shining brightly-the only part of his clothing that wasn't sullied in dirt. With sweat was dripping down from his light brown hair and his blue cape swaying wildly in the wind, he introduced himself as his dark yet clear brown eyes lit up.

"Hey there....uh, my name is Roy. Is there where the third seat test is?"