Welcome to Gaia! ::

4 years ago...
In a distant village could be found a small but cherished home, the home of a craftsman, Lor, and his wife. Their son worked in his father's shop day and night: his facination with the art of craftsmanship amazed even his father.
"Son, be careful near that forge!" Lor would say. But his young son would deftly pull out the piece he was working on before he was burned or lost his work. He was only 12, but already he showed the signs that he might follow his father, even exceed him. His skills were almost mystical...
As he had grown from a young boy, his parents only grew more cautious and protective of him, even as he outstretched others of his age.
He was stronger, faster, and healed miraculously fast. Some in the town beleived he was blessed, others, cursed...
His mother knew the truth, and had warned her beloved Lor of what might become of their son.
Upon his thirteenth birthday, the essence that had been building in him since his youth, the very power of his soul, finally surged to the fore...

~~~~~~~

Lor worked the forged unceasingly this day. The sword he worked on he had only recently learned to make: a sakabato, a reversed edge katana. The sword's swinging side was blunt, thus the sword could not kill. Lor thought it the perfect gift for his son's thirteenth birthday, an example Lor hoped his son would one day surpass.
Lor was tall, over six feet tall, and his deceptively skinny frame was home to well-honed muscles from years of working the forge. His blue eyes spoke of focus and clarity, and his dark hair matched the soot that ever stained his hands. Funny, he reflected, my son still has pristine hands.
The forge his son usually worked at was cold and dark: Lor had specifically told his headstrong, yet obedient, son to stay home and help his mother around the house. Lor did not want to ruin the surprise.
After finishing his work, Lor took out the old steel key and locked up his shop. Lor strolled down the street that led to his home.
As he walked up to the house, he saw that the front lamp was out. Odd, Lor thought, we always have the lamp lit when I come home. His unease grew as he noted trampled patches on the lawn. A crash resounded from inside.
Lor rushed in, the sakabato he had lovingly created for his son wrapped in cloth, to find a scene he had hoped would never be glimpsed in his home.
Two men, wielding swords, had his wife and son backed into a corner. One was nearly seven feet tall, brandishing a broadsword; the othe was small and lanky, bearing two short blades. His son had a cut across his left shoulder, but he stood defianlty in front of his mother. "Dad!" he called out.
That desperate, angered cry brought Lor to the end of his control. Out of the cloth flashed the sakabato. Lor was no stranger to swords.
He rushed the men, who quickly turned and attacked. Steel rang on steel as Lor struggled to protect his family. Soon the clash of blades became so frequent that it sounded as one continuous ring, a shrieking chorus of blades matching the unrelenting fury of a man protecting his family and home.
Even though Lor was more than a match for each of them, they twisted and turned, and attacked him from left, from right, always finding his blind spot. His defenses began to falter. Gashes began to appear here and there, and he began to feel his strength fade."No!" he cried his defiance as he saw his doom: the larger of the theives brought down his sword to cleave him in two. Lor's sakabato was to his left, locked with the smaller theif's twin blades....

Lor always remembered what was to follow as both the proudest and most frightening time as a father.

Just before the tall thief brought down his broadsword, a bright flash was followed by an almighty CRACK!
The huge man was thrown clear across the room like a ragdoll thrown by an impudent child, crashing into the wall and falling to the floor in a crumpled, charred heap.
The other thief stared in the direction the blast came from just in time to whatch the 13 year old boy hurl a bolt of lightning at him. The bolt connected, thunder rolled, and the thief was blown through the wall and out into the yard, thoroughly dead.
Where the lightning had struck, fires had started and were quickly spreading. Lor rushed his family outside, and watched with the neighbors as their home burned.
Lor looked around one last time to make sure that it was safe before turning to look at his family. He was greatly pained by what he saw.
His son looked down at his hands, eyes wide as he realized what he had just done. His wife had the look of distant sadness as she gazed at her son, then to her husband, who was stung by the pain behind the crystal blue eyes he had known for so long.
"Dad I... I just..." his son stammered.
"Its alright, son. Are you alright?" Lor asked comfortingly.
"Yeah... mom, are you alright?"
Lor's wife walked shakily to her husband, where she promptly clung to him and cried.
"Its all my fault!" she sobbed. "We knew this could happen, we should never..."
"Hush. It is NOT your fault, and this is NOT a problem." Lor's voice was strong and resolute as ever, perhaps even a bit stronger.
As his wife calmed and her eyes reflected her trust in his words, they turned and gazed upon their questioning son.
"Mom, dad.... you have some explaining to do," he stated flatly and sarcastically as he always had.

~~~~~~~~~~~

They had gone to one of the neighbors guest houses, and his wife was preparing dinner.
Lor had his son sit with him at the table while his wife brought food. Even in times of great crises, their family never hesitated to eat. As they all sat, Lor began his explanation.
"Several hundred years ago there was a conclave of humans who all shared one inhuman trait: their souls were the source of great arcane potential, and as such all of them were able to use special abilities. Their clan was known by the name Arka. Your mother is descended from the Arka and was blessed with the gift of healing. I would have died many a time if not for your mother," Lor said, looking fondly at his wife. "But those hundreds of years ago the conlcave was dragged into a war, and before long, those who sought power in the conclave started using their power for selfish gain. These were the least savory of the conlcave, and were few in number, but numbered amongst the most powerful. It was thus that they betrayed the conlcave, and spend decades at war with it. Eventually the Arka won, but at great cost. Many of the most honorable of the Arka died. The elders, the leaders of the conlcave, decided that it was foolish for thier power to be so concentrated. The conlcave long ago broke apart, and hundreds of years later an Arka couple gave birth to your mother. We hit it off the first time we met, when I saved her from a band of highwaymen, and she saved me from death, but that is another tale."
Lor stretched his legs as his wife continued for him, her soft, melodic voice soothing as she spoke.
"As long as one of your parents is Arka, the essence necessary to pass on our powers is there. As long as the essence is in you, you can be considered pure Arka, for the power transends blood alone. Thus there is no Arka bloodline. You inherited our legacy instead of being born a normal human like your father, but Arka live lives like normal humans except for our powers. Arka are a little faster, stronger, more durable... you understand." She paused to look to her husband for support. He simply nodded and held her hand. "I knew there was a good chance you would inherit the essence. I should have told you, but i did not want to burden you."
"It's alright, mom, I think I can understand. But what kind of power do I have?" their son asked.
"It appears you can summon and wield lightning. I'm no expert on Arka powers, but its not too hard to figure that out." Lor stated, attempting to bring a little humor back to his family. It worked. All of them smiled, forgetting all seriosuness for a moment.
Lor's wife continued once more. "It is unlikely to be the only power you have. In fact, I remember that my great grandfather had the same ability. You likely inherited it from him. You may also inherit my healing abilities, but they will take more time to develop, as healing is far more sensitive than wielding lightning."
"Mom, dad, I may be young still, but it's too dangerous for me to stay here."
Bot his parents looked on in shock.
"It's not you, and I know I shouldn't worry about my powers, but that's just it. We wont, but others will. I don't want you to get hurt by others or myself. Plus, I can help people. If i stay here my powers wont do anyone any good."
Lor looked at his son. "So you're going to leave and fight to protect people?" His son nodded eagerly.
"I'll fight for others and for what's right!" he said eagerly.
"Alright then, son, do what you must," Lor said. He looked at his wife, who nodded slowly.
"It hurts," she said,"but if I hadn't left my parents, I would have never learned to use my powers so well, and I wouldn't have met you." She smiled at Lor, who returned it as they clasped hands.
"Son, you know what a person who fights for others is called? They are called paladins. Can you handle it, Paladin?"
The young paladin answered with confidence: "Yes!"

~~~~~~~~~~

Lor and his wife watched their son look back one last time as he walked out of the town gates. Both had tears slowly running down their faces, but neither of them denied the path their son had chosen.
Paladin walked off into the sunset, set to one day meet the group that would show him a new path...

*damn good writing*
It's all good Faust! Being a zombie amongst vampires, it's nice to have someone who shares a difference from the majority species.