Drakvar trudges back into his hideout. It has been a couple of days since he lost all of his memories and most of that time has been trying to piece together old knowledge.
From what Drakvar has been about to gather from his old life, primarily from how others have reacted to him and from the public data files about him, his old self was a delinquent. Deadbeat or criminal could also be used as well as conman and scum, but Drakvar feels that delinquent is the best word since that is how other view him.
None the less, he is certain that the other descriptions would have become just as good in just a few years.
I will not follow the same path as my old self. That much I am sure of.
The old Drakvar had also dropped out of education, stopping near the end of the Grade Fifth. He also lacked any friends, but had many enemies.
And all of those enemies are now mine.
Most of the other things that Drakvar has found out are things that are basic knowledge and stuff that he should know, but has forgotten due to his amnesia. For example, he is currently in the grand city Kar’mire of Karris Monarchy, capital of one of Lyatar’s superpowers and one of the world’s largest settlements with population of over twenty million.
Apparently, Kar’mire is home to Kar’mire Keep, a Keep of the Ti’darkei Order. The Ti’darkei Order is a Knightly Order and the main power here, even above the Karric King and his government.
That said, I have yet to meet or even seen any of their Knights. Or perhaps I have and I just don’t recognise them.
Due to the fact that he has no idea where he was living before his memory loss, Drakvar has had to find a new home. Fortunately, the rundown and abandoned part of Kar’mire outskirts have many derelict buildings that are currently unused.
The downsides are that those buildings are abandoned for a reason and that the area in which Drakvar is staying is dominated by a local gang of criminals as the Darklurker Band.
And the Darklurker Band have had a beef with Drakvar since the thugs he bested two days ago were members of their group. And the first one that Drakvar knocked out is actually their third highest ranked member, Falmar Darklurker.
Because of that, Drakvar has been actively avoiding them.
It doesn’t help matters that Falmar is Shapeshifter Psychic.
Another thing that Drakvar has had to relearn is the knowledge of what Psychics are.
Psychics are Kith that use technology to grant themselves magical powers. What powers they have depends on the technology and Kith, but all Psychics have an edge over normal Kith such as Drakvar.
It is only a matter of time before Falmar and the other Darklurkers locate me and I will have to move. Perhaps by that point I will be able to leave the city. I feel it is in my best interest to restart a new life elsewhere. Especially since I have no intention of putting up with my old one.
Drakvar looks at his new home as he approaches it. The place is an abandoned factory. The bottom floor is a total wreck, but the upper floors are all in pretty good shape if looked clean.
But Drakvar doesn’t care about how empty the place is since all he wants is a roof and four walls to protect him from the elements when he rests.
He makes his way up to the small room on the top floor of the factory that he has claimed as his place of rest. He should be able to get a good rest up there before having to worry about essentials such as food, water and clothing.
Drakvar halts as he hears noise below him. A moment later he recognises the sound of footsteps.
Drat. Have the Darklurkers found me already or it is just somebody else looking for shelter?
Drakvar quietly and quickly heads back down to the bottom floor. Once on the third floor, he pauses he hears voice below him.
“You’re too late Jord scum,” sneers an arrogant male voice, “Dere is no escape for you here.”
“You can’t get away from us now,” chuckles another voice, this one female, “We’ll kill you here and now. No one will know what will have happened here.”
With it now obvious that a life is in danger, Drakvar doesn’t waste any time as he races to the ground floor. As he reaches a second floor walkway overlooking the ground floor, Drakvar takes the chance to observe the situation on the ground floor.
There are three Kith. Two Kith of dark brown fur in brown and dark green armour are standing by the doorways as they approach a panicked Kith girl.
Drakvar note that the girl is younger than he is and is wearing blue and white cloth over her pale white fur. Long, sleek golden hair flows from her head while her blue eyes are filled with terror.
Drakvar halts on top of the walkway as one of the armoured Kith draws a black sword as he strides towards the trapped and terrified girl. Helpless and alone, the young girl desperately looks for a way to get away from her attackers.
No. While she may be helpless, this girl is most definitely not alone.
Drakvar leaps from the walkway and lands between the sword-wielding murder and the hapless girl. With an angry snarl, Drakvar rises to his full height as he clenches his fists.
“Who in de Name of Farkas are you?” demands the Kith standing before Drakvar as he stops in his advance.
“The protector of his girl,” declares Drakvar as he recognises the voice as that of the arrogant male.
“You don’t look like a Jord,” says the other armoured Kith, the owner of the female voice.
“I am not,” replies Drakvar.
“Den why are you going to die to protect dis brat?” demands the male Kith angrily as he draws a second sword.
“Because I am Drakvar Blackborn,” Drakvar explains simply
And I have no reason not to save this girl.
“Then you shall fall Blackborn,” cries the male Kith as he rushes Drakvar and Drakvar counter charges.
Drakvar doesn’t blink as both blades slice the flesh of his face, drawing blood. Instead he grabs one wrist of the sword armed hands before slamming a fist into the chest of the murderous Kith.
The Kith grunts in pain despite his armour and Drakvar takes the opportunity to bend the arm he is currently holding the wrong way. Crying out in pain, the Kith drops both of his blades as Drakvar headbutts him.
“Farkas Damn dis!” snarls the other armoured Kith as she draws a black pistol.
Spotting the deadly weapon as it is drawn, Drakvar quickly strengthens his hold on his foe and twists him around so he can be used a living shield just as the female Kith aims her gun at Drakvar.
“Slug it!” shouts the female Kith, “Can’t you do anything right Arn? I’ll just have to shoot the Jord instead.”
As the female Kith switches her targets, Drakvar uses his two remaining arms to draw the two remaining black blades of his hostage.
“Don’t,” warns Drakvar as the female Kith attacker realises what he is threatening to do.
“You wouldn’t dare!” hisses the woman.
“Try me,” retorts Drakvar.
They stare at each other silently for a moment.
“I shall let him go if you let me go with the girl,” offers Drakvar.
“Deal,” replies the female Kith without hesitation.
And with that agreement, Drakvar throws the unconscious male Kith away and picks up the two dropped black swords so that he has all four blades.
“Come,” he tells the stunned Kith girl as he scoops her up and exits the abandoned factory.
With his new charge in tow, Drakvar returns to the derelict building that he calls home.
They had waited nearby until it was well into the night before returning to the abandoned factory. Despite spending several hours with only each other for company, neither he nor the girl had spoken to each other.
“Why?” asks the girl suddenly from behind Drakvar as he leads her up the stairs.
“Because you needed help and I am Drakvar Blackborn,” explains Drakvar.
“Dat isn’t a good enough reason,” insists the girl.
“It is to me,” replies Drakvar as he glances back over his shoulder at the girl, “Who are you anyway?”
“Jordis Sunblade of de Jord Order,” answers the girl.
“Well, Jordis Sunblade,” says Drakvar with a smile, “I am now your Protector.”