The writer would like to express to all those who read this that in no way does he own the rights to use the characters, names, places, or anything else related to the series of Rune Soldier. With that said, the writer also adds that all usage is in way an attempt to take credit from those who created such a great series. The writer only wishes that there was more Rune Soldier, and if they continued it, it went something along the lines below.

The writer thanks you for your mercy for not prosecuting him into poverty and allowing the writer to create a continuation to the story in the wonderment of the question 'What if?'

With that Disclaimer out of the way(please, don't sue me T.T I love my Cup O' Ramen) I now entreat all readers to enjoy this piece of fiction, and will love to take any and all comments as I will try to make it as close to the animated series as possible without the characters going to far off character. On With The Show.


It always started with the darkness.

His eyes opened in the darkness of an ancient ruin, from when the old magic was still strong. He remembered many wizards and priestesses that used to be there and the many tasks he had done for them, though he sensed that their time had long since gone. Gazing about the room as the smoke poured out of his ceramic casket, he sent out all of his senses to gauge what had awoken him.

The magic in his blood felt it far away from him as the old magics from his time were used once again, reanimating him as a misfired spell back lashed upon the place it had been used. It was always the same when magicians tried to rise beyond their station, the destruction and devastation of new spells being created and falling to pieces as the casters themselves could no longer retain the concentration to hold the magic to its purpose.

He had to be sent.

He was always sent to the places where they failed, as he was created for these things. Trained to handle anything, they had said so long ago. Time was irrelevant to him, as was anything but the purpose of his creation. He briefly wondered how he would return back into stasis without the old ones and their spells before casting it aside as he reached for the edges of the upright casket, and stepped back into the world.

The greaves they had given him creaked from the pressure of his grip as his hands latched hold and he pulled himself toward the mouth. Green fluid pooled at the foot of the casket and his midnight blue boots caused a momentary ripple across the surface of it as he hesitantly stepped free. He was weak from sleep, but it would soon be gone. He would gain his strength back, it would be necessary for whatever purpose was required.

Would he kill this time? Brief flashes of battles passed through his vision as his mind graced over the multitude of both magical and physical combat he had been subjected to when he had been first created. It didn't matter, not yet anyways.

Find the place of the attack, or in this case, the place of the 'accident'. Assess what was left. Find and detain the caster if they were still foolish enough to be alive.

These were his tenets, the rules to his being. He glanced cursory over his body and his armor. The midnight blue leather armor still looked fairly good, as if no damage had been dealt to it in the time he had been gone. He would have to thoroughly look it over later, knowing that a small crack anywhere in weapon or armor could make things ….. difficult.

A rotted bag sat on a small rotted stool, the only furniture in the stone room. It had fallen to pieces some time ago next to the doorway that led upward toward the surface and the world. The storm cloud gray shirt under is leather plate felt as if it was falling apart, or near enough to warrant the need for supplies, though he did not know if the money left for him would be enough, or even necessary. As his dark green pants started to dry from what was left of the fluid, small tears began to fray at the bottoms of them and work their way upwards.

He walked to the bag and ripped the rotted fabric open, tossing the rags into the corner of the room as he picked up the coins in his hands. Time was not something he was concerned with, but he was expected to begin as soon as he was able, and to complete his tasks as fast as he could. Efficiency was expected of him, and perfection was mandatory. A brief glyph glowed on the back of his gloved hand as he began to march upward, his mission begun.

Celecia had watched as the giant crystal of the old magics had come down from out of the sky, watching intently as the humans raced and milled around in their walled city of Ohfun. She had helped Louie out yesterday, but had stayed near the borders of the Tartious Forest to see if anything Louie did could be seen from up near the woods. The Elders of her village were still slightly upset with her for Louie and his compatriots, but with the successful mission of restoring the balance of the spirits, they were beginning to forgive her the mistake.

She didn't see it as any mistake and was beginning to become fond of the bumbling mage, still stunned by the thought that he struck first with his fisted before he would even think about magic. She smiled wistfully as she remembered swinging the pig over his head as he fought against the monsters in her village. Her smile hadn't lasted when the crystal had come down from the skies above their city.

The Elders had spoken about how the crystal was from the era of early magic, what the humans called the forbidden magic. For the elves, it was from a time when humans were still fumbling for their own way to learn how to touch the Source, though the humans called it the Four Elements. She watched for no more than maybe an hour before the crystal had stopped revolving in place and had plummeted into the highest point of the city.

She stared blankly at the destruction it caused, the billowing smoke and deep rumbling of the earth as it impacted and pushed down into the earth's embrace with its great weight. She could imagine the look on Louie's face when he realized what he had just done and began laughing, holding her stomach at the visual image. Leaning backwards, she nearly fell out of the tree she had been sitting in several times as she maintained her precarious balance.

That was when the Spirits had alerted her to it. She placed her hand against the tree she had been sitting in as she turned and stood carefully on the branches, her senses listening to not only the animals but to nature itself. Something that was not of Nature's Way had been awoken, something that the earth had long forgotten. It was far to the north of the Tartious Forest, beyond many lands and near the mountains of the old dwarven kingdoms when they had still dwelt with men.

The scene in the city of Ohfun forgotten, she headed back to her village, hoping that whatever had been awoken would not threaten her people.