The Rise of Quentin Skarr

[quentin]

England 1432

Quentin woke up at the crack of dawn inside his small hut. He sat up in bed and looked down at his still sleeping wife Gabriella, he smiled warmly at her. Quentin climbed out of bed and walked over to the window. The townspeople were out doing their menial tasks at hand. He walked outside of his home and looked around smiling at the freshness that the day has brought.

One of his neighbors walked up to him smiling at Quentin as he approached, "Greetings Quentin, it looks like another warm day is upon us, I would hate it if winter were to come suddenly."

"I would hate it too Daniel, how's the livestock?"

Daniel smiled and patted Quentin on the shoulder, "It's never been better Quentin, we will have enough chicken to last us a bloody long year, if not then off to the neighboring village we go."

Quentin looked around at the sudden stillness that hung in the early morning air. He felt an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something he could not put his finger on. Then he heard the sound of a man crying for help.

Quentin and Daniel turned as one of the villagers came running. His clothes were torn and bloody. A frightened look came across his face.

"A GROUP OF SCOTTISH ROGUES ARE COMING!!!!!!"

[quentin]

Chapter 1

Quentin Skarr and Daniel watched as the villager stumbled towards them. His clothing was torn and bloody. The strong look of fear washed over his face, he looked up at Quentin and Daniel with a pleading look on his face, “Please you have to warn everyone, the Scottish brutes came out of nowhere attacking and killing everyone in the next village, they’re on their way over here. Bloody savages is all they are.”

Quentin turned to Daniel with a serious look, a look of dread washed over Daniel’s face, “What are we going to do Quentin?”

“Take him and get him cleaned up, I’m going to gather up some men and find whatever weapons we can use and protect this village, I’m not about to let a bunch of Scottish rogues come here and destroy what we know and love.”

Daniel shook his head, “Gabriella would not go along with this and you know it. She does not want to see you get hurt and killed.”

“Nothing bad will come of me Daniel. I promise you and Gabriella that, someone has to protect this village and it might as well be me and a group of our strongest men that we can muster.” Quentin marched off and yelled at the top of his lungs, “EVERYBODY I NEED YOU TO COME OUT AND JOIN ME! THE VILLAGE IS THREATENED BY A GROUP OF SCOTTISH PIGS THE TIME TO FIGHT HAS COME!”

Families came out of their homes. They looked at Quentin as he walked, he turned to face each and every one of the husbands and young men that they have spawned, a grim look came over his face, “I HAVE JUST LEARNED THAT A GROUP OF FIFTEEN SCOTTISH ROGUES ARE ON THEIR WAY TO THIS VILLAGE, THEY HAVE SLAUGHTERED THE MEN, WOMEN, AND CHILDREN OF THE NEIGHBORING VILLAGE US MEN NEED TO BAND TOGETHER TO GO OUT AND MEET THE ENEMY AND MAKE SURE THAT THEY DO NOT COME TO THIS VILLAGE!”

Inside Quentin’s home, Gabriella sat up and looked out the window and saw Quentin standing there gathering the men and preparing for a fight. A look of fear washed over her face. She climbed out of bed and left her home, Daniel saw her walking out of her home, he rushed over and prevented her from venturing any further, “No, Quentin wants you to remain inside your home, it’s not safe.”

Gabriella looked Daniel, “What’s going on?”

“A group of fifteen Scottish rogues have attacked and slaughtered the families of the neighboring village, they are on their way over here and killing anyone who gets in their way,” Daniel explained wishing that he had not said a word.

“Quentin can’t fight them, he’s not a warrior, he’ll get killed,” Gabriella almost shouted at Daniel who held onto both of her arms.

“No stay inside, Quentin knows what he’s doing the only thing you’ll do is get killed if you get in the way, now go.”

The Scottish killers arrived wielding their claymores in the air yelling at the top of their lungs as they rode through the village. One husband who was caught off guard received a slash to the back of his head, the blade cut off his head at a diagonal. His body crumpled. The other men including Quentin watched in awe at what had just happened. Quentin turned to the others and yelled, “GO AND GRAB WEAPONS!”

One husband came with a pitchfork. He charged towards one of the invading Scottish warriors and thrust the pitchfork right at the Scotsman who swung his claymore before the pitchfork could make contact. The blade of the claymore sliced through the husband’s neck severing his head where he stood. Quentin could not believe what he was seeing before his eyes. He looked around and found an axe that stuck out from a tree trunk, he raced over and pried the axe free then turned to the battle that was taking place as the Scotsmen dismounted their horses and swung their claymores at the husbands catching them off guard slaughtering them like animals. Quentin yelled in rage and fury. He charged toward the scene of slaughter with the axe raised in the air.

One Scotsman had his back turned as Quentin brought down the axe blade on the back of his skull splitting it in two. Blood and gore splattered onto Quentin’s clothing. Quentin tore the axe free from the corpse’s mutilated skull. Quentin looked wildly around as he saw another Scot about to bring down the claymore on a fallen Englishman, Quentin ran as fast as his legs could carry him, the Scot turned and was greeted with an axe to his face. Quentin helped the surprised Englishman to his feet, he thanked Quentin only to be cut in half by a Scot that snuck up behind him. Quentin charged forward and buried the blade of the axe deeply into the Scot’s chest. Quentin twisted the axe inside the body before tearing it out.

Gabriella stood by the window and saw the massacre that was taking place. Tears poured from her eyes. She shook her head at the scene of carnage. The door to her home was torn down. A Scot glared in and smiled sadistically at her. He rushed forward and forced himself on her, she pounded on the Scot’s chest as he started to undo his pants.

Quentin heard the sound of his wife screaming. He turned with a frightened look on his face and charged toward his house clutching onto the wooden handle of the axe tightly in his hand. He ran as fast as he could toward the torn opening to his house. A Scot raced after him with the claymore raised. Quentin turned and slashed at the Scot with the axe striking him in the side of the head with the weapon. All around Quentin his people were falling like flies being picked off by the Scottish rogues, only a few of them had been slaughtered.

Quentin raced inside and stood in horror. The Scot that attempted to rape Quentin’s wife had stabbed his claymore deeply into her chest. The Scot twisted the blade. He turned to see an enraged Quentin.

“You are dead!”

Quentin charged toward the Scot and was about to bring the axe down on his head when the Scot pulled his claymore free from the corpse. He used it to block the attack and send the axe flying out of Quentin’s hand. Quentin looked at the Scot with a fearful look in his eyes knowing that his time to die has finally come. The Scot rammed the blade of the claymore into his stomach. The blade burst out from within his back. The Scot tore the blade free from within Quentin’s body. Quentin looked down at the fatal wound then up at the Scott before he crumpled to the floor inside his own home.

The Scottish warriors had slain the entire people of the village leaving no survivors behind. The few that remained climbed on their horses and rode off into the distance leaving nothing but death and slaughter behind them.

[quentin]

William Xavier rode through the village and gazed down at the lifeless bodies that lied there dead. He frowned at the death and destruction that was left behind. William stopped his horse as he felt the presence of another Immortal nearby. His eyes scanned the surrounding scene of carnage. William placed his hand on the handle of his broadsword just to be cautious. William turned his head towards one home where the source of the presence was coming from. He climbed off his horse withdrawing his sword from the sheath and approached the house cautiously. His eyes remained focused on the door expecting the unexpected.

Inside Quentin’s house, the young warrior lied there in a pool of his own blood. Quentin’s eyes were closed. Moments went by. They snapped open. He took in a deep breath as he came back from the dead. He sat up and frantically looked around. His eyes settled on the lifeless body of his wife Gabriella. Tears streamed down from his eyes. He crawled to her ravaged corpse cradling her head in his arms. He cried his forehead touching hers.

“No…this can’t be happening…I’m supposed to be dead!”

“You are right about that my young friend. You are supposed to be dead but you are not,” William said standing in the open doorway staring at Quentin.

Quentin spun around staring up at William with wide eyes, “W-who are you? What is the meaning of this?”

William smiled walking inside Quentin’s house, “You will soon discover that you will have a life unlike any other on the face of this planet. You cannot die, you are Immortal. I’m sorry that it had to be this way, that you had to die this way and for you to lose your loved one. Now the time has come for you to move on with your life. There is a much larger world for you to explore that is if you want to survive.”

Confusion washed over Quentin’s face, “What are you talking about? I’m not Immortal, none of this is happening, it is the way of witchcraft.”

“Trust me when I tell you this. You cannot die. The only way you can die is if someone were to cut off your head. Not only do you lose your head but you will lose your power in an event known as the Quickening.” William walked further inside Quentin’s home. Quentin stood up and stared at the other Immortal who looked at Quentin’s dead wife. A saddened look crossed his face, “It is such a terrible waste to end the life of someone so beautiful and young, someone who had a full life ahead of them.”

“Why did I become Immortal? I did not ask for any of this.”

“No one ever does but it happens to only a select few of us on this earth. You will discover in this new life you now have that you will come across a lot of death and loss. You will have to kill to survive. You will have to participate in the Game.”

Quentin turned to the stranger, “What Game?”

William turned and smiled, “The Game that all of us Immortals play. There are two golden rules in the Game. The first one is that you can never fight on Holy Ground. It is tradition not even the most sick and twisted of our kind would dare to break that Rule and the second Rule, there can be only one.”

Quentin stared down at the floor feeling more lost than ever. He closes his eyes for a moment taking in the silence around him, “What happens if there is only one of us left in the end?”

“You would have all the strength and knowledge of all the other Immortals that have walked this earth. You would have enough power to dominate this world or in some other case to help change it,” William patted Quentin’s back, “You have much to learn, I am going to take it upon myself to teach you the life of Immortality. You will learn how to use a sword effectively, you will discover many ways where you can defend yourself, the old you died when you were stabbed. This is the new you. You my friend are Immortal and I’m going to help you in trying to keep you alive long enough until it is time where you no longer need my teachings.”

Quentin stepped outside of his house and looked at the carnage all around him. A saddened look washed over his face. His neighbors and friends were all mercilessly slaughtered by a group of rogues from the lowlands of Scotland. A bunch of savages they were. Quentin walked over to one of the rogues’ corpses and picked up the claymore that lied next to the body.

Quentin swung the blade in the air testing its weight. He turned to William who stood outside of his house and smiled at him, “I take it you have found the weapon you will be using in order to keep your head on your shoulders?”

A serious look formed on Quentin’s face. He nodded his head, “Yes I will use this blade not only on those who want to take my head but on the Scottish pigs that raided my village and raped and killed my wife.”

William frowned. “Revenge will not bring back your wife Quentin. You must learn to move on. The past is history all you have to focus on is the here and now.”

“I want to spill their blood though. I cannot stand to watch them live and get away with what they have done.”

William walked over to Quentin, “It’s over let it go. This will do nothing to help you live your Immortal life.”

[quentin]

Quentin turned to William with a determined look that washed over his face. He looked down for a moment.

"It won't be over until I slay those Scottish pigs for what they have done. They murdered my people like animals, so I'll murder them like animals."

William shook his head. He closed his eyes and exhaled.

"Death comes and goes, you must learn to accept that Quentin if you are to go on down through the centuries as an Immortal."

"I don't care. I never cared about being an Immortal, to me that is a curse, to not be able to die like that of a normal man. What good can possibly come out of being an Immortal?"

William turned so that he faced Quentin. He looked at the new Immortal right in the eyes and grabbed both of his arms.

"There are a lot of good things that can come out of being an Immortal. You have the ability to go down through the centuries and be able to fight for the Prize. There will be other Immortals out there that will be coming for your head, so you'd better be prepared, if not then you will not stand a chance against others like ourselves."

Quentin turned away slightly. He looked at the corpses of his people. Deep down he knew that he had to move on. He had to let go. Wallowing in self pity would do no good for him. He felt as if he were given a second chance at a new life. He wanted to learn more about the life of being an Immortal. He wanted to learn what else was out there in this world for him to discover. He looked at William with an expectant look in his eyes.

"Where do I begin?"

William smiled at his new student.

"I'm glad you asked, come it is time for you to start your new journey."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A day had passed, Quentin journeyed through the forests of England with his teacher William Xavier. William had taught everything Quentin needed to know about becoming an Immortal. All Quentin could do was listen to his teacher speak to him.

"The moment you draw near another Immortal you will be able to feel his presence, that allows you to know that there is another one of our kind near the area. There are some Immortals that are good and there are others that are evil. It depends on who you come across, the point is to not trust anyone Quentin, no matter what. In the end there will be Immortals that would be more than happy to take your head."

"How am I supposed to defeat another Immortal?"

"You can kill another Immortal by cutting off their heads, once that is done you will receive their strength and power in an event known as the Quickening, it is that which drives other Immortals to kill us."

"Are you saying I can become stronger by receiving Quickenings?"

William nodded his head as the two Immortals rode on horses down the dirt trail that cut through the forest. He looked around the vast seemingly empty woodland area.

"Yes, the more Quickenings you receive the stronger you become, it is important that you learn how to fight if you are going to go one on one with another Immortal. The more knowledge you have on learning to use a sword the better your chances are at survival."

William stopped his horse from going any further. He turned to look up at Quentin and smiled.

"Here would be good."

Quentin stopped his horse and dismounted it. He looked around the area then at William who unsheathed his broadsword that had Celtic lettering engravened on the bottom of the blade. He fanned the broadsword expertly.

"Draw your sword, it is time that I teach you how to use the very weapon that will help keep your head attached to your shoulders."

Quentin withdrew the claymore and stared at William. William stood in a fighting stance. He turned to stare at Quentin.

"Get in a stance like the way I'm doing it. That will tell your opponent that you are ready for combat."

Quentin stood in the exact fighting stance that William stood in. He held the claymore out before him and watched William very closely.

"We are going to practice using different strokes and ways of defending yourself. Raise your sword like I'm doing."

William lifted the broadsword above his head revealing it to be a block. Quentin did the same thing. William then brought his broadsword down in a diagonal. Quentin did the same. The new Immortal followed William's instructions carefully bringing up the blade and moving fluidly through the air with it practicing different combination attacks and blocks.

They had spent nearly two hours of training. Quentin stood there out of breath and looked at William who did not break a sweat. William smiled at his student.

"You did well Quentin. I'd say that you have the heart of a true swordsman."

"Thank you...sir..." Quentin said trying to catch his breath.

William put his broadsword away and mounted his horse. He turned to look down at Quentin.

"Come, we are not far from our next location."

"What location?"

"We will be staying at a monastery for the time being, it will serve as your home, you will train and learn how to read there, the monastery itself is run by monks. I am close friends with one of them, he always welcomes me and whoever else I bring with open arms."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

William and Quentin arrived at a five story monastery where monks walked in different directions on the main ground. A monk walked up to William's horse bowed to him and smiled up at the elder Immortal.

"Greetings brother William, we are most grateful that you had returned."

"Thank you Brother Andrew, it is good to be back, this is my new student Quentin Skarr."

Quentin bowed to the monk who bowed in return. William and Quentin dismounted their horses. Another monk led them away and towards the pen where other horses were kept.

The two Immortals stepped inside the monastery. A slightly heavyset monk stood in the receiving hall. A bright smile washed over his face. The monk approached William and Quentin. He bowed to them both.

"Brother William, I'm glad that you have made it back safely."

"Thank you Brother Peter. I want to introduce my newest pupil Quentin Skarr."

Brother Peter turned to him and smiled in greeting.

"How do you do?"

"I'm fine, thank you."

Quentin bowed to the monk. Brother Peter then turned to William with the same smile on his face.

"As you know Brother William, Quentin is more than welcomed here in our sanctuary," Brother Peter turned to Quentin, "Here we'll provide you with the best service possible."

"Thank you very much."

Brother Peter bowed to Quentin and turned away from the two Immortals. William turned to Quentin with a pleasant smile on his face.

"Here you will be safe, this is Holy Ground, no Immortal my harm you here, it is tradition. There is no fighting on Holy Ground."

Quentin looked around and followed William as he walked toward a staircase.

"Follow me Quentin I'll take you to your new room. You'll find your stay here most enjoyable. Dinner will be ready in a few moments."

[quentin]

Quentin stood in the doorway to his room; he stepped inside and set the bag on the floor, he leaned his claymore against the wall and turned to William. Quentin looked around at the room taking it all in. He went over to the bed and sat down on it. He smiled somewhat.

William entered Quentin's room and watched his protege get settled in. He looked out the window and gazed at the garden where most of the monks did their studies and meditation. He turned to Quentin and cleared his throat catching the young Immortal's attention.

Quentin looked up at William with an expectant look in his eye.

"This is going to be a long journey for you Quentin, a very long journey. I hope you realize that. I hope you are ready to go down that path of Immortality and face the many challenges that come your way."

"I'll be ready for them master."

"That is good to hear. You will need to train as soon as possible."

"Train?"

"To learn how to use a sword effectively if you are going to survive against other Immortals. The Immortals that are out there now are skilled with a sword, they know the art of swordsmanship. They have trained days and nights. You can do better. I am known as the best swordsman in all of England. I am well trained, I have fought many others both mortal and Immortal in sword combat and came out as the victor after the battles. You can do the same thing, if you accept my training."

Quentin looked down at the floor. He looked up at William and nodded his head. A smirk formed on his mouth.

"I accept your training."

"That is what I like to hear. Those two hours of training that you have done were nothing compared to the training that you are about to endure in the upcoming weeks, months and perhaps years. You my Immortal friend will never grow tired of what I have to offer you. You will discover that what I have to teach you will save your head on more than one occasion."

Quentin stood and followed William out of Quentin's room. They walked down to the dinning hall where the rest of the monks were seated at a long wooden table and having their supper. Two monks came and placed bowls of soup before the two Immortals. A spoon sat beside the bowls of soup.

Quentin already started to eat. The monks looked at Quentin and his seemingly large appetite that he had brought with him. William stared at his student and smiled. He kicked him underneath the table. Quentin stared at William then noticed the monks staring at him. Quentin smiled sheepishly at his teacher and the monks.

"Sorry."

Brother Peter sat at the end of the table. He cleared his throat and caught everyone's attention. The elder monk stood up and stared at his brothers.

"It is a glorious day that we accept a new brother into our own little family. Everyone I want you to meet Quentin Skarr, he will be staying with us for the time being until the day has come for him to move out from within our monastery."

Quentin bowed his head to the other monks who smiled at him. They turned back to stare at Brother Peter.

"Now I know most of you are hungry so I am not going to take up anymore time, I hope you enjoy your meal, all of you. Now let's eat."

The monks began to eat their soup. Quentin looked at William for approval. William nodded his head. Quentin continued to eat until he was finished. He looked around as the monks quietly ate not speaking to one another. William was not even talking. Quentin stood up from the table and took his empty bowl and spoon to the would be kitchen and placed the bowl and spoon in the large bucket filled with water.

William had followed Quentin and placed his bowl and spoon as well. He turned to his student.

"Come let us walk in the garden. I have some more stuff to discuss with you pertaining to your Immortality and the Game."

Quentin nodded his head. He followed William out into the garden. Darkness had fallen. The two Immortals stared up at the starlit night sky as they walked and enjoyed the cool breeze that blew through the air.

"Quentin I'm not going to lie to you, over the next couple hundred years or so, things are going to get rough for you. That is if you survive long enough. I have lived for a very long time, I have seen things that no mere mortal can ever dream of. I've seen things that the brothers themselves talk about at night although they never seen them themselves they talk about far away lands and different civilizations. I seen them all. There will come a time where I no longer wish to paricipate in the Game."

Quentin looked at William with an odd look on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"There will come a time where I would want you to end my Immortal life. I would ask of you to take my head and all of my power and knowledge. Would you do that?"

Quentin stopped and shook his head.

"No, you are my friend. I cannot do that."

William nodded his head and smiled.

"Quentin, I know that the Gathering is probably hundreds upon hundreds of years away, I do not want to last that long. I want to go home and see my loved ones again. The people that I miss dearly. You have potential Quentin, I see it in your eyes, you will be something truly special in the next several centuries. You will do good for mankind. It could be you that wins the Prize. That means you have to fight others like yourself no matter what."

"I can't kill you."

"You will have to Quentin, in the end, there can be only one. Remember that Rule when you come across another of our kind. They will also be thinking about that rule, then what will you do? You cannot simply turn around and leave, then surely that other Immortal will take your head. Remember Quentin, it is a fight for survival. I'm here to teach you and train you, I do not want to lose you the way I lost my other student who was foolish and arrogant, he rushed into things and in the end he lost his head. I do not want the same thing happening to you."

"That will not happen to me. I have a better chance at survival than any of the other Immortals that are out there. The thing is I haven't come across any of the others."

"You will in time Quentin. They are out there and they will be coming for you no matter what. When the time comes please accept my offer and take my head."

Quentin turned away from William. A serious look washed over his face. William watched his student's body language and took note of the uneasiness that radiated from his body.

"I sense you are troubled Quentin."

"You are asking me to do something that I cannot do. I do not kill friends. I kill enemies."

"Consider this doing a favor for a friend. Just think about it when the time comes, that's all I ask of you to do. Tomorrow your training begins, be prepared, you will be going through a series of exercises. Goodnight Quentin Skarr."

"Goodnight master."

[quentin]

Quentin started the day out learning different ways of handling a sword. He watched his teacher William Xavier show him different moves and abilities. Quentin took in everything he needed to learn. He practiced different thrusts and strokes. He practiced different blocks and parries. He sparred on occasion with William who won each sparring session.

The young Immortal grew frustrated with each loss. William patted his student's back, "These things happen, a lot of the other Immortals go through the same thing, they lose each sparring session and they go back at it until they actually win. It just takes practice Quentin, you are doing good, I'm very proud of how fast you are learning."

"Thank you master, it is not enough though. I need to be better at what I do. I feel like I'm not good enough."

"You are good Quentin, there's no doubt about that. You have potential, you just need to work on it some more."

"I will try master."

William smiled and nodded, "Good, that is enough training for you, for now. It is time that you and I journey away from the monastery. I sense that you are growing eager to go out into the world and see things that you have not seen before."

"Yes master, I'm a bit tired of sitting inside the monastery and waiting for something to happen. I feel that I should be out there exploring the world not sitting around here in this monastery."

"I understand the pain you're going through, besides I think it would do you good to move about."

Quentin smiled at William and nodded his head.

"Thank you master. Where will we be going?"

"I hear there's a fair going on in the outskirts of Blackpool, there's food and festivities. I think you will like it."

Quentin lowered his head and frowned.

"I used to go to faires with my wife Gabriella, now I won't be able to do that anymore, she's dead and I'm still alive."

William turned and looked at his student. "If you continue to dwell on the past then you will be going down a path where you do not wish to go down. Thinking about the past will bring you nothing but heartache, I know this from experience Quentin, trust me when I tell you this. It is best for you to move on and think nothing has ever happened."

Quentin and William left the monastery. They rode on their horses through the dense forest. Quentin gazed at the seemingly desolate area.

"It is hard for me to do that master. I can still see the bloody Scottish pig raping her and killing me."

William shook his head. "Those things are over and done with. They are all in the past, it's time for you to move on."

"The more I try the harder it is for me to let go. Maybe I'll let it all go in a few hundred years or so, that is if I'm still alive."

William laughed a little, "You will last that long Quentin Skarr, I have enough faith inside of me to know that you will be at the Gathering in the future."

"You really think so?" Quentin asked curiously.

"Yes, I've said it before Quentin, you have potential. I see it in you my Immortal friend. You are one of the better of our kind, that is the truth, you can choose to accept it or not, it's your choice."

"I have faith that I will be at the Gathering and that I will be the one."

The two Immortals arrived in the outskirts of Blackpool where tents have been set up all throughout the area. Villagers and other travelers roam about. There are women frying chickens and rabbits over a burning flame, rotating the carcasses over and over until they are crispy.

William and Quentin climbed off their horses and walked through the area and stared at the various tents. Quentin noticed a sword fight that was taking place in the distance. The young Immortal walked over to the area. William followed after him.

They stood outside a large circle where two men in armor were dueling with sabers. They circled each other and threw various attacks at one another. William shook his head at the sword combat.

"That is barbaric swordfighting at its finest, I've learned from a well trained swordsman. That kind of fighting has been long forgotten, I don't want to see you resorting to that kind of fighting Quentin."

Quentin turned to William and shook his head.

"I won't master."

[quentin]

Quentin walked over to a food stall where an elderly woman was frying a rabbit. He looked at the roasting animal with hunger tearing at his insides. The woman looked up at Quentin and smiled at him.

"Would ye be likin' a taste?"

"Most definitely," Quentin said extracting two coins and handing them to the woman as she carved several pieces of meat from the rabbit's body. She placed the meat on a hand made dish and handed it over to Quentin. Quentin accepted the dish and bowed his head.

William walked over to him and noticed him eating the piece of rabbit, a curious look washed over his face, "I take it you're hungry."

Quentin looked at William and frowned, "I haven't eaten good food like this for awhile since we've been at the monastery, I think I deserve some good meat."

William nodded his head, "If you insist my young student, we'll get back to training in another couple of hours, I hope you're prepared."

Quentin frowned again at his teacher, "More training? I thought I was on break today."

"Training to be the best swordsman is never over. You will go through long sessions of training until you are considered the best swordsman and if you can defeat me in our sparring sessions."

"This is nonsense...I deserve to have breaks." Quentin said taking another bite out of the roasted rabbit meat.

"So you can get rusty on your skills with a sword? I think not young Quentin. Other Immortals will show no sympathy when they come looking to take your head, you think they will simply give you a moment to relax? No Quentin, they are here to kill you and they will do so by any means necessary."

The two Immortals walked through the faire. They looked at the various different tents and stalls and stared at the dozens of mortals that have gathered about either buying food or buying hand crafted jewelery. Quentin and William stopped. They felt the presence of another Immortal. The force struck Quentin by surprise almost causing him to double forward. William grabbed his student and stared at him and looked around the area.

"What the hell was that?"

"That was the presence of another Immortal. You will be feeling that occasionally when one of us is near. Be on the lookout."

William turned to see an elegantly dressed Englishman walking around scanning the area. His eyes met with William's. A smile crept onto his face as he brushed back his red cape ofer his shoulder revealing a Spanish rapier strapped to his left side.

Quentin and William stood their ground as the Englisman drew near them. He bowed to William and Quentin.

"Greetings I am Damon Alexander."

William nodded his head, "I'm William Xavier and this is my student Quentin Skarr."

Damon looked at Quentin and smiled, "Ah a fresh Immortal. I'm always out looking for new blood."

"Is that a challenge, if so I accept." Quentin said stepping forward.

William turned to Quentin placing a hand on his chest staring from his student to Damon, "I don't think so. Why does a seasoned Immortal go off killing young Immortals? Where is the thrill in that?"

Damon smiled, "There's a thrill in killing anything, I choose not to kill seasoned Immortals. I have a thing called strategy. Your student accepted my challenge, I think it would be appropriate enough to step away from prying mortal eyes and get on with me taking his head."

"Good luck trying." Quentin said getting ready to pull out his claymore.

William turned to him with an intense look. "Not in front of mortals. If you wish to fight him it must be away from mortal eyes."

"Your teacher's right boy, you should listen to him, maybe after I'm done taking your head I'll come for his next."

"I thought you only killed fresh Immortals?" William asked.

"I kill anything I want to kill, besides I might get lucky by killing two Immortals in one day."

Damon turned and started to walk away from Quentin and William. Quentin turned to William. "I can take him."

"You're not ready, you've only begun your training. It is still too early for you to fight another."

"I don't care, I've trained hard enough."

"If you insist. Just remember what I have taught you when you fight him."

Quentin followed Damon away from the faire and deeper into the woods with William following right behind Quentin.

Once they were far away from the faire Damon turned, removed his hat and cape and withdrew his rapier and stood in a fencing stance. Quentin stood there and withdrew his claymore and got into a fighting stance that William had taught him.

Damon smiled then lunged at Quentin's neck. Quentin brought up his blade blocking the attack and pushing Damon away from him. Quentin stepped forward launching a different set of attacks against the other Immortal. Damon backed away and dodged the attacks a lot. He attempted to thrust his rapier into Quentin's gut. Quentin swatted the blade away from connecting with his flesh. Quentin rushed forward with his claymore pulled back. Damon stood there and held his rapier at the ready anticipating the next assault.

Quentin did a combination of attacks and flurries. Damon had trouble blocking most of them. The tip of Quentin's claymore scraped against the flesh on Damon's left arm. The Immortal cried out in pain and did a different set of attacks driving Quentin backwards. Quentin steped to the side and thrust his claymore into Damon's gut, Damon turned lowering his blade to block the attack. Damon was beginning to tire. He circled his opponent sizing him up. He looked into Quentin's eyes then launched a different set of attacks.

Quentin blocked them easily and found the opening he needed. He rammed his claymore deeply into Damon's chest. Damon threw back his head and screamed in intense pain. Quentin twisted the claymore inside of Damon's body before pulling it out and kicking the rapier out of his fallen opponent's hand. Quentin looked down at Damon with the claymore raised as his opponent fell to his knees.

"There can be only one..."

Quentin swung his claymore, the blade sliced through both the flesh and bone of Damon's neck severing his head. The headless body crumpled. Quentin stood there and lowered his blade. Lightning danced around Quentin's body. The Quickening came tearing into Quentin's body causing him to throw back his head and arms screaming in both pain and pleasure. He raised his claymore in the air as lightning struck the blade. Raw energy and power tore into Quentin's body replenishing his strength giving him all of the power and knowledge that Damon once posessed.

Within moments the Quickening was over. Quentin fell to his knees. William walked over to him and offered his hand. Quentin accepted it and was helped to his feet. He weakly stared at his teacher.

"Is this what happens after I take another Immortal's head?"

William nodded, "Yes that is the power of the Quickening, this is what drives the other Immortals to kill us. Come we better head back to the monastery, you will need plenty of rest."

Quentin and William turned and headed back to the monastery. Leaving behind the headless corpse on the ground.

[quentin]

They arrived back at the monastery; Quentin was still trying to get used to the Quickening, never in his life has he felt something so powerful like that. William slightly turned his head and noticed that his student was still getting over the effects of his first Quickening. He smiled.

"Relax, the feeling will pass in time. I remember when I received my first Quickening. It was something that I will never forget."

Quentin turned to William with an unsure look.

"Will they always be like that?"

William nodded his head as the two Immortals approached the large wooden door to the monastery. A monk stood outside and opened the door for them. He bowed to William and Quentin who bowed back to the monk. The Immortals stepped inside the monastery.

"Each Quickening is different Quentin...some are big and some are small, depending on the Immortal you behead. A well seasoned Immortal who has lived for hundreds of years will have a bigger Quickening than that of a fresh Immortal whose Quickening would be short. Nothing too extravagant."

Brother Peter walked up to William and Quentin and smiled at the two Immortals. He stared at William with a serious look on his face.

"I'm sorry to disturb you Brother William but there was a man who came by looking for you, he was dressed in all black, he was an Englishman by the name of Dellatavus Mortis. Do you know of him."

William looked down at the floor, he thought about that name then looked up at Peter and shook his head at the monk.

"No I haven't heard of him before."

Quentin looked at William with an uncertain look on his face.

"Could it be another Immortal?"

"I'm not sure Quentin, anything could be possible. I am after all the best swordsman in England, there will be both Immortals and mortals wanting to challenge me."

"What if it's an Immortal?"

William smiled, "Then I'll accept his challenge."

[quentin]

William cleaned his sword, Quentin stood off to the side and watched William. A troubled looke washed over Quentin's face.

"I don't think it is a good idea to look for this person." Quentin said.

William turned to Quentin with a raised eyebrow, "Oh do you?"

Quentin nodded his head, "With all due respect, it could be another Immortal, you've said you've been around for over four hundred years, maybe it is another Immortal that you've met from the past and probably forgot about."

"It could be anything Quentin, even if it were another Immortal, I highly doubt that I would ever remember encountering him before, you see Quentin when we encounter other Immortals we have a tendency to remember them, always," William explained to Quentin. He sheathed his sword, draped his cape around his shoulders and put on his hat. He turned to walk out of his room with Quentin who followed right behind him.

"Why don't you stay on Holy Ground where it is safe?" Quentin asked.

William smiled, he turned to Quentin and placed a hand on his left shoulder, "You worry too much my young student, I do not back down from challenges, it would be a cowardly thing to do on my part and I would expect you to not do the same."

William walked toward the exit. A monk opened the door for him. He bowed to the monk and stepped out.

[quentin]

William traveled the dirt pathway leading away from the monastery. He scanned the surrounding woodland. His senses were sharp. He stopped and gazed around one final time before moving forward.

In the distance a peasant stood next to his horse and watched him. The peasant wasn't Immortal. William sighed. He walked up to the peasant who nodded his head, "Greetings, kind sir."

"Hello," William said to the peasant. "I have a question."

The peasant arched an eyebrow, "Oh yeah? What might that be?"

"Have you noticed any strange men wandering around these parts. Someone who does not quite belong here?" William inquired.

The peasant looked around and shook his head, "I can't say that I have, although there was this one queer man who wandered these here woods a couple of days ago. He dressed very funny, he looked like a Viking."

William nodded his head, "I see, you wouldn't happen to know where this fellow is at now do you?"

"No sir, I don't. You see I did not want to be anywhere near that man. He frightens me. There's something about him that ain't quite right." The peasant explained.

"Thank you for your time." William nodded his head and walked off.

Quentin wasn't too far away. He kept his distance. He moved through a different part of the forest away from William but still followed him.

William drew near a small village. He could smell rabits roasting underneath a fire along with a hog and some other animal. He entered the village and nodded his head at the villagers who looked up and nodded back at him, "Hello there."

The villagers turned back to what they were doing. He felt his quarry had been here. The villagers were afraid to say anything. He could sense their fear. Something was not right. He even began to feel uncomfortable. He sensed something out of place. Something that did not belong.

As he wandered through the village he felt it. The presence of another Immortal. He turned around and scanned the village. He could not find the source of the other Immortal. His hand rested on the handle of his broadsword.

A man dressed entirely in black stepped out from within one of the huts. A sneer was displayed on his face. He stared directly at William Xavier and nodded his head at the other Immortal, "You are William Xavier?" The Immortal asked.

William nodded his head, "That I am. I take it you are Dellatavus Mortis?"

Dellatavus nodded his head, "Yes that's me. You should have not come looking for me. I had no idea the best swordsman would turn out to be one of us."

"So do you want to find someplace nice and quiet so we can take care of what we need to take care of, or do you want to spend all day talking?" William asked already annoyed with the other Immortal.

"If you insist on dying right away, then that's fine with me." Dellatavus said without a care in the world.

[quentin]

William followed Dellatavus through the thick forest. He gazed around at his surroundings and took in every detail. William stopped walking when Dellatavus stopped. Dellatavus withdrew a jagged sharp viking sword, he turned to face William with a sickening grin spread across his face.

"Your move," Dellatavus said. The confidence in his voice was big.

William withdrew his broadsword. He expertly fanned the blade. Dellatavus watched and sized his opponent up. Dellatavus studied his every move.

William stood and expected Dellatavus to attack first. Dellatavus did not budge. William focused on the Viking Immortal. He drew near him, his broadsword held out before him. William was inches away from his opponent.

Dellatavus sneered, he swung his broadsword in a wide arc. The blade missed William by inches. William swatted his opponent's blade away. The older Immortal did a combination of attacks and flurries driving Dellatavus backwards.

*********************

Quentin heard the claning of swords. His heartbeat quickened. His eyes grew wide. Quentin raced through the forest and headed straight for the source of the sound of blades connecting with each other. Quentin had withdrawn his claymore.

*************************

William circled Dellatavus. Dellatavus sadistically smiled. Dellatavus lunged forward delivering a series of combination attacks of his own. William blocked them all. William rushed forward and thrust his broadsword at Dellatavus who swatted the blade away from making contact with his flesh.

Dellatavus backhanded William away from him. William stumbled to the ground. Dellatavus moved towards his fallen prey with his Viking sword raised.

William turned to stare up at Dellatavus. Just as the Viking Immortal was about to attack, both Dellatavus and William felt the presence of another Immortal. They turned to see Quentin who stood there and helplessly watched.

William's attention was focused on Quentin. Dellatavus used this moment to his advantage. Dellatavus swung at a low angle, his blade sliced through the flesh and bone of William's neck severing the older Immortal's head from his body. The head tumbled to the ground below.

Quentin stood there and shouted, "NOOOOO!"

Dellatavus turned and sneered at the young Immortal.

Quentin fell to his knees and watched. The clouds grew dark above Dellatavus. Lightning danced around his body. Dellatavus lifted both of his arms. The power of the Quickening came. All of the power and knowledge that belonged to William tore into Dellatavus' body. Dellatavus threw back his head and screamed in pain and pleasure. His body was lifted off the ground as well as William's headless corpse. Lightning struck the trees all around Dellatavus.

All Quentin could do was sit and watch. Tears flowed down from his eyes.

Within moments the Quickening was over. Dellatavus fell to his knees. The headless corpse fell to the ground as well. Dellatavus looked up and glared at Quentin. Dellatavus stood up, straightened himself up and walked towards Quentin. Dellatavus sheathed his Viking sword and stood before the young Immortal.

"Your teacher fought well young one, in a hundred years or so, could you fight as well as your teacher?" Dellatavus asked with a sneer on his face.

Quentin glared up at him, "How about fighting me now?"

Dellatavus laughed, "I have just had a Quickening, I'm in no condition to fight, besides, I don't fight young Immortals. They are a waste of time."

Dellatavus turned and began to walk away from Quentin. Quentin stood he held onto the handle of his claymore tightly. Quentin yelled in rage and charged after Dellatavus. Dellatavus turned, quickly unsheathed his sword and plunged it into Quentin's stomach.

Quentin threw back his head and screamed in pain and anguish. Dellatavus twisted the blade within Quentin's body. The Viking tore the blade free from Quentin.

Quentin dropped his claymore. He fell to his knees clutching the fatal wound. He weakly stared up at Dellatavus who looked down at him with a pitiful look, "Young fool, are you in such a hurry to die?"

Quentin finally "died". Dellatavus turned and left the boy behind after sheathing his sword.

***********************************

Within moments, Quentin came back to life. He sat on the ground and turned back to the headless corpse. Tears poured down from his eyes again. He staggered to his feet and walked over to the body.

"I shouldn't have followed you...I should have stayed back at the monastery...I'm sorry..."

Quentin turned and walked away, heading towards wherever his destiny took him. He had made a silent vow that he would avenge the death of his teacher and hunt down Dellatavus.