Athletic physical appearance, not built like an ox, but not scrawny either (Although snoring like one.). His head was enveloped with forest green hair. He had a subtle tan that showed he wasn’t one to stay inside for very long.

Suddenly the snoring had stopped, the boy had awoken from his sleep. He got out of bed and did his morning routine. He stretched his limbs, brushed his teeth while fixing his hair, and then washed his face. He slipped out of the shorts he wore as he slept and put on a pair of baggy, worn-out, dark grey jeans, the color had eroded from washing it many times, and slipped on an under-armor shirt for comfort.

As he came out of his zombie-like state, he began to notice the scent of food penetrating his room. He recognized the scent immediately, pancakes.

{The greatest creation known to man}, he thought to himself as he drifted to the aroma’s source. When he turned the corner, he spotted his pray. A large stack of pancakes, with a glass cup of syrup, waiting to be poured onto the sweet stack of cakes.
He hesitated. He scanned the room for anyone else. No one was around. Seeing that all was good, he pounced.

Just then his father came at him with a flying kick. It landed with great force, throwing him strait over the sweet buttery pancakes. He tumbles to land on his feet. He turns to face his father, who had already downed the stack.

“What the hell did you do that for!!!” he exclaimed while pointing his finger.

His father was indeed a beast, standing 6’9”, his arms like tree trunks. His dirty blonde hair sat on his head like a porcupine. The no-sleeved shirt he wore had been used way too long, it had been torn, beaten, and battered. His pants were in no better shape.

“You were about to eat my pancakes,” His voice boomed like a lumber jack’s, “besides, Rune, what are you doing up so early?”

“Oh, uh, well. I wanted to start practice early today,” Rune said as he grabs a tall cup and readies it, “where’s mother?”

“She’s getting ready for your birthday, so she went out for awhile,” his father told him while he cleaned up, “well, since your up we’ll begin, only until your mother comes back.”

“Alright.” He said anxiously, after he poured orange juice into the cup, he sucked it down and ran outside.

Rune walked outside to a clearing, where high traffic had made a large patch of grass stopped growing. He sat criss-cross in the middle of the patch, waiting patiently.

Soon his father had arrived. He was carrying two great swords in both of his hands.

Both were six foot, double edged broad blade with no frills. Since these blades vary in size, weight, height, and the fact that they can’t cut paper to other swords, they are great for defense and powerful attacks.

“Today we’ll just spar, since it is your birthday.” Rune’s father said as he through the heavy weapon too him. Rune caught it and got into a stance where the blade is readied between him and his opponent.

To be honest, it probably wasn’t Rune’s real birthday. This man, held fast and ready for an attack, he called father wasn’t really his father at all, nor his mother. The story of his life before he was 11 years of age eluded him.

 6 years ago. Where Rune’s memory began.

This rugged man found Rune, naked wrapped in a large scarf, and took him home, where he and his wife took care of him. When Rune came too he was in a bed, confused and scared, he jolted upright in the bed and looked around frantically. Only to find a beautiful woman sitting by the bed with her head on the bed, she was sleeping.

Her hair was baby blue and, by the looks of it, probably went to her waist. She was a petite woman wearing a laden dress with a cloak over her. Her face was mature, about early twenties, and her skin was pale but still had somewhat depth. Seeing her, his fear washed away. Her eyes slowly began to open. As soon as she saw him she gasped then embraced him.

Rune didn’t know what to do. She felt warm and motherly. A wave of tears began, he had no control over himself. As if something terrible had happened, but he didn’t know what.

After the tears had stopped, she loosened her grip and asked, “What happened?”

“haaa-” he struggled to speak.

“It seems your voice has gone out.” she said concerned.

She reached in her dress, and pulled out a tiny bottle of green liquid. She told him to drink it. He didn’t have second thoughts about it, so he drank it. It had a minty hint to it and went down smoothly. He felt very refreshed after that. It must have been a restorative potion.

“Thanks.” He said, timidly.

“My name is Lumina. My husband, Keith, brought you in.” She said invitingly.

“CHINK!!”

“Oh!” Rune said. This was no time to be nostalgic. Keith, his father, had rushed in and given him a warning tap.

He jumped back, and readied himself. He gave a large, horizontal swing. Keith had blocked it with ease. Rune uses the bounce from the block to spin around and attack again, only to be blocked again. He yanked his blade back, and thrusted. Keith blocked again.

No matter how many attacks he threw, Keith blocked again and again.

“Why are you using your right hand?” Keith questioned.

“I was trying to see how good I am with the right.” Rune said, shoving his blade in the ground.

“You suck with it, even though you are the same either way.” Keith said with a smug look.

“We’ll see about that!” Rune exclaims.

He pulls the blade from the ground with his left hand, and dashes. Six feet away from his target, he jumps seven feet and brings his blade, with great force, down upon Keith.

Keith blocks. The force of Rune’s attack was staggering, both of the blades crack under pressure. Keith sends Rune back with a heavy shove of his blade. Rune slides to a stop and stands.

“Great, so you’ve learned the “Helm Cracker” but do you know this one.” Keith said, readying himself.

He dashes forward with great speed. Rune has only enough time to set up a defensive position. In that short amount of time, Keith’s blade had taken on an odd color, a very light glimmer of blue.

He felt their blades connect. It was as if time had slowed. He watched in awe as his sword cracks and shatters. The shear force of that attack was amazing, he thought as it sent him flying into the forest.

“Well. Now that I got him out of the house, I’ll go see if Lumina is done with the preparations.” Keith said, laughing, as he turned to the house.