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Footfalls in the dark.

That's all that could be heard from the dark corridor of stone. Nearly silent footfalls of soft leather soled, crimson slippers, and the brush of the hem of robes of blood. These were the sounds of the Blood Keep This day.

Vesray Raedgar rushed through the halls with long strides of a man of fourty, but in truth he was older. Much older. Ancient, even, but no one would know to look at him. He had all the appearance of middle age, unless you could look into his mind. Though you would not want to.

He raised an arm and wiped the sweat from his brow, as well as the drop from the end of his hooked nose that threatened to drop to his thin pale lips below. He sweat not because of exhaustion, but because of the task that was now set before him. To convince the Five to move.

They had come to him only a few years before, each carrying their mark, their birthright and their signature that they were Chosen. Then they knew not what their destiny was at that time, but he did. He had waited for them. Over the next few years he had trained them in the arts of combat, knowlege, wisdom and cunning.

Five when there was supposed to be seven...

Vesray reflected upon the days long passed when they had each come to the door of those hallowed halls. The place of kings and gods long forgotten. The place of the Chosen. Each carried their destiny within their hands or on their belt. But the last... he came with two. Never before had one person come with two of the fabled Seven Swords. One had never shown at all, and this worried him even more.

The young man of twenty and two with a crooked smirk that could shatter a heart of stone. The only with a quick wit and cunning to boot. Instantly he feared and loved the man, as he well knew many had done before.

Vesray shook the thoughts from his head and returned to the present, realizing he was standing before the high oak doors that marked the entrance to the Crystal chamber. He flung them open and was blinded by the instant and intense light that poured from a room with no stone walls. Named the Crystal chamber because of its transparency, to allow the light of the gods to flow forth into those who were in the room.

And here they knelt. The-Five-That-Should-Be-Seven. The protectors of the realm, and chosen of the gods. Those who bore the sacred Seven Swords. Those who would deliver the kingdoms from evil, or cut them asunder.

Which would happen this time, Vesray did not know, but great evil loomed over the heads of many. They well knew this.

He stepped to them cautiously, not wishing to break their concentration and meditation yet he knew he must. He feared each and every one of them, though he had trained them all, and loved them as sons.

"My Lords," he said, clearing his throat before speaking, "the time has come."

"We know." Spoke Haris, who bore the greatsword of the Earth, Quake. The sword of an emerald crystal blade, and hilt of obsidian leaves. His eyes never opened from his meditation and his sword never moved from its place in the central dias, a notch cut into the ground for his blade. Where it had stood centuries ago wielded by another. Harris was a broad shouldered, grounded man of thirty and five with copper skin and grey hard eyes like stone. His demeanor spoke much for the sword he carried. This man never smiled.

"We sit in council among ourselves, deciding that which must be done" Spoke Rydia, a woman of beauty as sharp as the Sapphire bladed weapon, Tempest, she heald within her slender yet strong hands. Her voice flowed as calm and confidently as a river. Her long white hair danced around her shoulders falling into her soft blue eyes. She had not the face of a warrior, but faces can be decieving, much as water.

"We know we must move, and I intend to leave this place soon." Replied Short tempered Flint, his golden eyes catching the gleam of sun off his ruby blade. His look was that of a quick and fierce warrior, with sharp features and an even sharper tongue, ready to cut you down at the beat of a heart. Fire.

"The darkness moves upon the kingdom, and time is short for us, but we do what must be done" Said Aeriyn, a maid of sixteen, the youngest of the five, yet possibly the wisest. She bore her mark and her name well, a slender curved blade of purest pearl colour, that ended in a hilt as whispy as her voice, Torrent was its name. Yet Aeriyn had her temper, much like a strong gale. Air, of course was her signature.

Vesray looked to the last, but he remained silent, holding two swords within his hands. Nova and Eclipse, Twin single edged straight blades that seemed to mirror one another, save for their colour. One was black diamond as deep as the night, yet still transparent. The other was purest clear diamond. Each with a single wing below his fingers for the hilt, one Silver for the black blade and one of gold for the clear, and a dragon's head for a pommel or respective colours. Truly they seemed to be ment for a single person, yet they had always come as two before. The one he loved and feared the most, Kier Solidor.

Kier did little more than open his violet eyes and give his sideways smirk. He saw humor in everything, and he loved to see humor in the words of his companions. His brothers and sisters in blood, those he had spent the last years with in training.

Vesray reflected once more to days passed, when Kier's humor had gotten him into more than one scuffle with the humorless Haris. Kier had always said before they died he would have a smile of the man, but it had yet to happen.

They all rose one by one and sheathed their blades with a sharp sound of resonating crystal. In truth all of their weapons were forged of precious gems, yet not the gems of their colours. They were all made of an ancient and very valuable, yet possibly extinct item called Ethral. A crystal forged ages ago in the city of Ethra, home of the people called Ethereal.

Vesray recalled how Kier had yawned, noting how repetative and unimaginative the names had been, and had been met with a sharp grunt from Haris. Vesray caught himself smirking slightly and had quickly dismissed it. One of their few history lessons of their swords and their destiny.

"You've all grown." Vesray proclaimed. "I've taught you all I know, and you've learned more than that within these walls. If anyone is to end what is coming, it is you five."

"The five who should be Seven." Flint muttered, almost in disgust. "Our lost 'brother' must be found, we've decided."

The others shook their heads. Vesray knew he was not ment to know this but Flint never could keep a secret very long. He believed in action, not subterfuge and quiet. Flames danced within his veins and if he sat still too long he looked uncomfortable. The years spent within these walls had been toughest on him, Vesray knew.

"We leave on the morrow." Haris, self proclaimed captain of the Chosen announced. "For now we must rest. We have to prepare ourselves for the coming journey."

"Where will you start?" Vesray questioned.

Silence met his question. They were unsure, he knew. He had not directed them on where to go only that they must begin their journey.

But one knew. Or seemed to know.

Kier stepped forward, his violet eyes gleaming in the sunlit crystal chamber. "We seperate at first light." he said to the others. "We'll soon discover where we go and what we are ment to do."

Vesray smiled. Here was the true captain of the Chosen; Master over Light and Shadow. He who left much to destiny, and nothing to chance. The one who could end the world.

The Chosen frowned, but nodded in agreement.