Adventure of Entropy

Chapter One - The Discovery of Entropy

Five years later
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The young man walks the streets of the small town, trying to find his way to market. He's a mercenary for hire, so naturally, he would like a good sword. The man thinks everyone deserves a good sword, but he, naturally, thinks that he deserves quite an exceptional sword.

"Sir! Good sir!" A man shouts out from his market stall. "Might you like a good weapon? We have swords, maces, anything to fit your needs, good sir!"

The mercenary turns around. He slowly walks to the merchant. He's wearing a hood to conceal his appearance in public, but naturally, a man who's selling him goods deserves to know his appearance. The mercenary pulls off his concealing hood, and reveals a pale, childish face and messy blonde hair. His pointed ears make him look similar to Link from The Legend of Zelda. "What have you got for me?" The mercenary asks.

"Sir, what is your budget? Perhaps we can find you a good weapon around that?" The vendor likes to find our what his clients are worth before he sells to them. He can drive a hard bargain if the need and money is high. However, he is quite lenient when the buyer is low on cash.

"10,000 Emeralds," the vendor gapes. THAT much money could buy a man a palace, a hundred acres of land, and have enough money left over for ALL of his wares!

"Well, I don't usually see customers with this much opulence!" The vendor bows. "Please, here are my best forged weapons," the vendor, embarrassed at not respecting the opulent, and most likely affluent at that, man as he should, scurries into the back room and pulls out his finest masterpiece.

A magical weapon. Imbued with the power of the storm, this was the vendor's masterpiece. His prized possession, albeit it was in pristine condition, the vendor not being a warrior. But naturally he had to put it up for sale. He was a man of honor, not a common swindler.

The vendor reemerged with the magical sword, a gold-encrusted battle axe, and a deep copper lance. His top three wares, followed by his silver rapier and katana so light, it could be mistaken as a feather if the holder had not glanced at it himself. "Take your pick, they're all quite exquisite and WELL within your price range, good sir."

"May I wield the sword?" The mercenary asks. "Naturally I would like to get a feel for each weapon in its natural state of use."

"Of course!" The merchant obliges. He would never turn down a simple request such as that. Of course, he would have to be wary of the magical sword's powers being accidentally activated. "But do not raise the sword over your head."

"And why is that?" The mercenary inquires. "Will the sun hurt your eyes?"

"Good sir, pardon my sarcastic tone of voice, but that sword contains powerful magics, the kind that terrifies kings and warlords alike!" The merchant panics. "It will call down a stroke of lightning that will annihilate my entire stand, myself included, and then where would we be?"

"Alright," the mercenary obliges. He takes the sword and gets a feel for it in his hands. "What's your price?"

"100 Sapphires!" The merchant smiles. He's giving the mercenary an incredible deal. He wishes he weren't such an honest man.

"That's far too cheap!" The mercenary shakes his head, much to the merchant's surprise. "Naturally, there must be some sort of flaw to this sword! Is the magic real?" The mercenary lifts the sword over his head, and, much to his surprise, a bolt of lightning shoots down through the sword, through the man's body, and into the ground. The mercenary is momentarily stunned, but shakes the blow off.

"How on earth did you manage to survive that?" The vendor gapes. Such endurance! Such fortitude! Such will! He'd never seen the likes of it anywhere!

"I'll pay 100 for it... 100 Emeralds, that is," the mercenary begins taking emeralds out of his sack and places them, one by one, on the counter, where the vendor gapes at his incredible generosity. 100 Emeralds was FOURTY TIMES higher than his original price of 100 Sapphires!

"Sir, you are unbearably kind. What can I do to repay you?" The merchant begs for some way he can repay the man. He has just ensured the merchant and his family will never be in poverty for generations to come, unless inflation takes a dramatic turn.

The mercenary smiles. "One thing. If you ever hear talk of a lady named Serra in town, send a message to this address," the mercenary slips a sheet of paper towards the vendor. "I've been searching for her. Please, just keep an eye out for her."

As it happened, Serra WAS in town, and she was ALSO at the next stall over, looking to buy a magical orb. "That'll be 500 Rubies, miss," the female vendor from the stall says, while Serra is eavesdropping on the conversation between the male vendor and mercenary. Serra shakes her head and pays the money, and a few short seconds later, her orb is floating in the air beside her, glowing with the magic of sonic transmission. She can hear the mercenary and vendor clear as day now.

"Serra... Serra... Got it. Now, what should I call you by in my letters, if I am able to send them?" The merchant inquires.

The mercenary shrugs, "Just call me Spartan," Serra gasps in recognition of the name, "that's what they all call me."

"Spartan..." the vendor writes the name down. "Got it. Well, I'll see you around! Many thanks once more!"

Spartan waves farewell to the merchant. "I hope to meet you soon as well someday. And maybe we'll have a fine chat about good smithing."

"I certainly do wish to have that chat!" The vendor waves goodbye, and mutters, "Oh, yeah, I just hit the mother load! I have got to tell my wife!"

To Serra this sounds as clear as day. Her brown braided hair waves in the wind, and her cobalt blue dress does the same. Upon seeing Spartan leave, she runs after him and grabs his shoulder. He looks at the hand on his shirt, and shoves it away. "I'm a little busy searching for someone here, miss, so if you don't min-"

"I'm Serra!" Serra gasps, then covers her mouth with her hands. She begins to speak again. "Sir, you've been looking for me, haven't you?"

Spartan has been looking for her. For three years he's searched and searched far and wide all over the kingdom. Not for the typical reasons a man might search for a woman, but for an entirely different one: to prepare her and her magics for the ordeals to come. He whirls around to get a good look at her.

"Serra, I've heard about your good looks, but I never thought you were so divine," Spartan figures a little flattery couldn't hurt here.

Serra scowls, much to Spartan's dismay. "I'm here for business, you know. Traveling the world searching for a mercenary named Spartan isn't as easy as it might seem on paper. I'm thinking of just leaving you here if you don't cut to the chase and take me to wherever that man wanted you to take me to." Serra pouts and turns up her nose.

"Fine, fine, fine," Spartan frowns. "Let's get you settled. Then we can get you adequately trained."

"Finally," Serra rolls her eyes. "I finally get to train, something I've been doing for the past five years."
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Well, hello there! I am taking a break from my other works at this time to work on my writing skills, so I ask this of my readers: to critique anything and everything that stands out like a sore thumb. Once I am satisfied with my current level of writing prowess, I will return to my other works, and then finish this novel once they have been finished.

So please, don't hesitate to comment on something. Just say what comes to your mind.

So that's it! See you next chapter!

GamerXL5