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Email: daenara01@hotmail.com

DescriptionEdit

Eye Color: Dark
Hair Color: snow white
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 165
Age: 16
Place of Origin: Mayene

StatsEdit

Rank: Trainee
Weaopon Score: 6
Philosophy: Not Choosen Yet
Primary Weapon:
Secondary Weapon:
Tertiary Weapon:

HistoryEdit

Mikel swung his broom. The woodchips scattered across the floor, leaving a trail of dust. He sighed, and swung harder, determined to finish before sundown. A few more strokes, and... there. Done He slipped the leather apron over his head, and smiled in anticipation. His eyes flickered to the bench, and rested upon the sword lying upon it. Several months of work, and Mikel had finally finished. He lifted the sword, inspecting it for imperfection. The leather bound handle was straight, and the lion crafted onto the pommel was finely done. Swinging the sword, he tested for balance. The sword sang through the air, a testament to his skill as a blacksmith. The fine steel caught the setting suns rays, reflecting the amber light toward the back of the room. He caught movement from the corner of his eye, and spun, sword ready to face his opponent. His eyes fell upon a slight girl, her luminescent eyes filled with tears. "Light Mikel, I will miss you." She strode forward, and raised her face to his. "You must not forget... us." Mikel's head swam with memories. Moonlit walks, and evenings spent hidden from view. How could he leave that, leave her? "Maria, I will miss you too. You must understand though, this is my dream!" His voice broke entreatingly, begging her to understand. He straightened, and composed himself. "I will become a warder, and serve the light. My life is but to serve." He took a step back, and started working the forms his father taught him. Smoothly, he built up speed, until he started sweating from the exertion. In his mind, he was the sword, just as his father said it would be. Abruptly, he stopped, driving the sword into the floor. "You know I must fulfill my fathers dream. I must become a servant of the White Tower. I promised him, before he died." Mikel raised his sword again, slowly moving through the positions again. His attention remained on Maria though, and he studied her for signs of acceptance. Maria studied him in return. Since they were children, they had been all but promised. Now, his love lay with another, and she didnt think she could compete. She sighed. "Mikel, I will support you. I just came to give you this." She extended her hand, the sunlight glinting off a hint of gold. Mikel lowered his sword, and started forward in curiousity. Maria clenched her fist closed again. "Wait, I must say this first. I give this to you, not in hope for the future, but in remembrance of the past." Her dark velvet eyes searched his, and she opened her fist. Inside, a golden ring, carved with a magnificentl ion stared up at Mikel. He picked it up, and inspected it, noting the fine workmanship. "Maria, this must have cost you a fortune. I can't..." Maria smoothly interrupted, " It is not your decision to make, my young lion. It is a gift, and you must take it. I must leave now, but I wish you well." Her voice thickened, and single tear rolled down her cheek. "Write to me occaisionally, okay?" He nodded, and watched as she fled the room. Is this worth it? Can becoming a warder make up for losing Maria?

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