Chapter 56: Othor William Strat

The man moved up to ride next to a kid in black, who stared out into the shadows, absently directing his horse. "Remembering the past?" asked the man.

The kid looked at the man thoughtfully. "Difficult times, Master Strat. Just remembering tough times. I rage to be done with the mystery of Mortal Rings. Return to the castle, train some more until my body is qualified to have the Mark." The kid spoke with sudden passion. With a sigh, his voice softened as he said, "I was wondering Master if you didn't come across me in that slum, you think, you'll meet someone like me?"

Master Strat whipped the strap, signaling the horse to move in motion. "You're too young to be thinking like that, William." He added while saddling the horse under the cover of the forest. "You're only fifteen, focus on our mission, and in no time, we'll be back at the castle."

Along came the breeze, his long and curly hair waves. With his soft and flawless skin, he looked more of a lady. But it filled his crystal blue eyes with a passion for adventure. Everything about this kid is almost perfect. The afternoon sun slid across his jet black leather clothes. Making the kid looked more mature rather than innocent. "Fourteen Master, fourteen," rectified the young Will. "Where are we going this time, Master?"

Master's Strat's long jagged hair covered his round eyes and straight nose, unable to be seen. He was full-figured at his thirty's, yet his general appearance was an overwhelmingly scruffy. But something about this man-made the nobility of the Empire took a step further away. "We're going to a town called Alalone," said Master Strat. "Remember your training."

"Alalone, Alalone," muttered the young Will. With a cry, his voice exploded with sudden excitement. "An elven settlement! Don't tell me! Master?!"

"Yes!" cried Master Strat. Both their eyes twinkled. "Do you know how the Elven village got its name, Alalone?"

"No."

"Well, listen well, youthful man," said Master Strat. "All the inhabitants of the village were female! No male Elves! Which means! They're always alone!" he added. "We just need to survive their killing spree! And they're ours!"

The two strode the deep of the forests, with excitements filled their hearts. Unbeknownst to the future they held.

Hundreds of moons had passed after their last mission. They proclaimed young Will the next successor of Master Strat.

"As the successor of the late Othor Strat. Under the guidance of our Maker, the one true Maker. The Maker of Life - Isashil. Wished by the Ancient Order of the Seven Genesys - an Organization whose purpose is the balance of all. I nounce you, William the Pleasant, as the recent member of the Organization, taken under the wing of the Third Genesys." an old man stood in the middle of the hall where hundreds of members covered with black cloaks. Presenting their faction. He then took a deep breath and continued to end the ceremony. "Isashil guide you!"

Inside the ruined castle, in a circular hall, members around the world gathered together. They announced young Will as a recent member of the Organization.

Moons passed after the death of his Master. As a recent member of the Organization, young Will accepted missions after missions. Until one day, they tasked him to spy on another Kingdom. A mission that will change the course of his future.

Taking the mission, they briefed young Will regarding his mission. In a room, only members of higher positions could access. There sat a man, old enough to be called Master. Chewing a pipe, while holding the mission of young Will. "Are you sure, Will?" asked the old man. Appeared to be the one who handles all confidential missions. "This ain't an ordinary mission you have here."

"Yes, Master Org," replied young Will. "Maybe that's what I needed, leave this place, take fresh air."

A dwarven, that's what Master Org was. Maybe the tallest of all dwarves. He was sitting, yet it leveled his eyes at Ned. Massive-muscular arms, long white beard, that almost reached the red oak floor. Ned wondered what's with the dwarves and a smoking pipe?, every time Ned saw a dwarf inside the Organization, be it male or the muscular female, they had their pipe chewed on.

Raising a part of his gray brow, Master Org twitched as he read the last report about young Will's mission. "Remember Alalone?" informed Master Org. "You know, the one where you and your Master took a delightful break, the town elder sent a report, days after you two left, saying that you two piqued your curiosity?"

Although despondent with the loss of his Master, this was the first time he showed a smile, young Will's face turned red remembering the details, he and his Master did at the Elven town. Clearing his throat, young Will continued with a stern face. "Okay, I know, it's our fault, but what's that it got to do with my mission?"

"Well, after you two left them town, a group of hoodlums attacked it, leaving none alive. Well, aside from the witness us have. Us Organization's network of intelligence discovered that it wasn't just your day to day rub and go." Chewing his pipe, the dwarf popped a cloud of smoke and continued. Some liquid formed at the tip of his lips. "Us knew these because, first, Alalone was a cave to several Elves, able to use high-tier play in the mind magic. What you humans called them magic? Illusion, yes illusion magic. Anyway, second, them town was covered with a Barrier Rune, that even us from the Organization had a hard time hammering it. And further investigation led us to recent information. The idiots came from the other side of the continent. Where elves are being hunted and turned to slaves. Aye, you hear me right, slaves, kid, slaves."

"Cassan," young Will muttered. "So, what's my mission?"

"You hit the iron right, kid expected of Othor's apprentice," answered the dwarf. "Your mission, should you choose to receive this, is to be a spy. Right under them dragon's nose. Find out who ordered the attack. Take him or her alive, if possible. The time for this mission is indefinite. Us were not in a hurry. So take your time. Us already asked the Empire the strengthen its borders. Here pouch this." The dwarf pulled open a drawer under his wooden desk. Took a price of parchment and handed it to young Will.

"What is this?"

"New identity, eh? You don't like it? Well you should, we will station you as a Knight of the Kingdom. Do you know what a Knight, eh? You will pouch an alternative name. It's your choice of whatever name you want."

"I know, and understood, Master Org," young Will replied. Taking the parchment and read open it.

"By the by, how are your brothers and sister? Did they took the rope and join you coping up with your Master's lose?" asked the dwarf. "Will them agree about this?" Pulling the pipe off his mouth and pointed it at the parchment young Will had.

"They will, and they should." young Will said. "Especially Rolon."

"Rolon the Quiet, eh?" the dwarf yank open his butt off his chair. Walked at the side of the room where his hammer was hanged and stared at it for quite some time. "Well, since he's got the Mark, I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Yes, I'm sure," said young Will. Staring at the parchment, he muttered. "I hope so."

"Rustle kid, rustle, no time to think, eh! Write your new name. Us will make arrangements and them will see you off the coast." ordered the dwarf. "May Asashil guide you!"

Looking at the parchment, young Will eventually decided and wrote his name. A name whom he never knew he will have for the rest of his living life.

Receiving the parchment, the dwarf raised an eyebrow. Curiosity struck his beard. He read the writings. "Othor William Strat," he read. "I like you, kid. The same goes for your Master. You will have a fresh life their kid! Isashil only knew what could it be. But remember your mission, why us are doing this is to restore balance. We don't go plethoric. Balance kid, balance, eh!"

Receiving his mission, young Will arrived at the Griffith Kingdom, eventually gaining name because of his orthodox way of fighting. Learning their daily life culture, young Will become accustomed. Receiving missions from an organization they called the Hunters.

He gathered fame until one day he met a lady and took advantage of him. He later knew that Marks weren't just known back at the Ekan, it was known throughout Earflgard.

According to the lore of the Griffith Kingdom, Marks were just a myth.

Learning about the Mark, the reigning King forced young Will to show that Marks exists in exchange for the lady he wanted to protect.

Forcing him to take the Mark of the Knight from his brother, Rolon. Young Will, well now known as Othor, especially at the fighting pits, went against the Organization to save the lady he wanted to protect. After the battle, Othor was fatally wounded when the left of his arm was sliced.

Traveling back to the kingdom, he later learned that the King executed her lady. He used the Mark for himself, then was branded a traitor by both the Organization and the Griffith Kingdom.

Fled across the continent, Othor eventually came into an island where criminals and pirates alike are free to roam. Outlaws call this island O'rriadt.

There he met the son of the town lord, Rastik McGreedy. After, Rastik's father died. They made him the successor of the island. But was troubled by a monster roaming his island. With the monster at bay, Rastik was losing all the patrons his father had.

At his demise - where he doesn't care if he lives or dies. Othor took the mission. None would accept. Slay the monster that pestering the island of O'rriadt. With the makeshift group of outlaws, Othor ventured the island. Eventually killing the monster - a newborn wyvern graded as S according to the Hunters Guild.

Successfully killing the wyvern, Othor made a deal with Rastik. To let him live on the island, he took the part of the Grieving Woods, and hide his identity to the outsiders. During this time, O'rriadt Island wasn't that populated. There, inside the depths of the woods, Othor lived alone.

Time passed, Othor became known as the hermit of the Grieving Woods. Invoking his name alone will scare the kids out of their pants. Decades passed of drinking booze. He laid down his sword.

Under the veil of the darkness, where booze laid down to his side, Master Will heard a thunderous roar above the sky. With the roar slowly approaching, Master Will stood to accept his destiny. Moments of loud cracking noise eventually stopped when an unknown flying object fell and smashed at the woods, where Master Will used to waste his life.

Approaching the object, Master Will noticed a trail of smoke and fire. Trees bent liked they made a way for the king passing by.

To his surprise, Master Will discovered an infant inside the metallic object that was covered with smooth glass. Master Will cracked open the glass. He tried spells, he even applied strength he used to punch the wyvern, but to no avail, not even an inch it bulged. Regretting about his life, and how he became to be, where he can't even save an infant, he lost hope. Losing his hope, Master Will dropped a tear to the glass. The moment his tear dropped was when the hissing sound occurred. The object that appeared to be a dragon egg hissed open.

Master Will carefully lifted the infant inside. With teary eyes, he smiled. He lifted the infant as high as he could. Seeing that it was a boy, he smiled once more. The infant opened his eyes. To Master Will's surprise, he didn't cry. Instead, liquid leaked out his private regions and went straight ahead to Master Will's old and wrinkled face.

The infant then cooed and smiled and talked. "N...N...N..."

Surprised the infant could talk, Master Will lifted the infant closed to his chest to hear him once more. "What are you trying to say imp?"

"N..."

"Ne..."

"Ne..."

"Ned."