Our story begins where most do end and part ways, however tonight as the crimson moon hangs high over head our Hero is in a spot of trouble, the Evil King has heard of his heroics and vowed to put an end to this.

"I don't want him killed in public" the King announces to the court as the guards drag our Hero to the cold stone floor "I want him killed here an now, so the people believe he abandoned them, let them rest their hopes on a corpse. I want him rotting by tomorrow" The evil king shouts, lifting a blade from it's sheath.

The Hero stands boldly in the face of this monster, this is what he's been waiting for, a chance against the tyrannical King himself, swiftly our Hero grabs the hilt of a nearby guards blade, lifts it from it's sheath and readies himself against the terrible King.

The great hall echos with metal on metal, steel clashes and flashes against one another as the two circle in a dance of death, finally with one last thrust, the Hero finds his blade scratching the face of the mighty King, yet too slow to recoil the King drives his iron blade through our Hero's chest, he gasps as the last of his hopes are run through, he watches the smirk slide across the King's face, and as he falls, our Hero calls against the night, cries and pleas "Why.. would.. how could.." he struggles for the words, but soon, his eyes dim, and his body rests, cold as the night, at the foot of the Evil King.

"Let the people hope no more, this kingdom doesn't understand proper rule, at least maybe now they'll know how foolish it is to hope." The King rests himself in his throne once more.

The Hero Dies, but the people never forgot, and soon the Evil King would be slain, perhaps not by the Hero himself, but by the ones whom he inspired. Fire is a powerful force, and when strong enough in the heart of one, will spread to the hearts of many. Passion is an impossible force, unstoppable, and unquenchable. The Hero Dies, yet the story lives on through the fire of his heart.

Enjoy~