The guards spotted him as he approached the keep. "Halt! Who approaches?"
"The Childe Fangora, returned from his training in the East. You should recognize me after all these years, Cranden." Toriban's old friend smiled in recognition and boldly shouted out.
"Ring the bells and spread the word this day of joy! Childe Toriban has returned to us!" The bells sounded a few moments later and the gate slowly opened.
As the servant came to take him in, Toriban turned to Cranden. "I shall talk to you later, old friend."
"Ten years we have had no word of you, Childe. We had feared you dead," the servant remarked. "We shall have to get you an audience with His Lordship immediately."
"I need a scheduled audience to meet with my own father? What have things come to here?" The servant gave a small shrug.
"At least give us a few minutes to inform him, sir. If you were to appear before him now it would give him a shock that his aging heart may not be able to take." Toriban allowed the servant to enter the audience chamber without him. Five minutes later, the servant returned. "His Lordship will see you now."
"Hmph. I see that you have returned home, boy. Hopefully you're not quite as worthless now." Unable to be hurt by such harsh words anymore, Toriban merely shrugged. "Bah! We'll just have to find out how useful you've become later. You can give us a demonstration with that dandy weapon you've picked up." He spoke, of course, of Crimson. The mention of the fine weapon brought to Toriban fond memories of his first master, the man who had given the blade to him. The man he considered his father. As he was dismissed and led from the audience chamber, Toriban's father entered into a severe coughing fit, and Toriban did his best to hide his smile. He knew now why he had come back.
Later, in what used to be his own room, Toriban entered a meditative state and attempted to further understand his return to his birthplace. “I felt the imminent death of my father,” he thought. “Which means that the House of Fangora will soon fall to me. And a fine ruler I shall be. I will correct the wrongs that my wicked father has wrought upon this land.”
A few hours later, Toriban called for a servant to tell him of all the things that had passed during his absence. The servant quickly told him all major events until he reached the most recent one: the death of the Emperor.
"Doskrin is dead?" Toriban said, astonished. "Then that means we now serve the brat-Prince Allendrie?"
"No, sir. Doskrin, may God rest his soul, was overthrown by Selphrin, who now rules with an iron fist." Toriban began to wonder how this would affect his plans after attaining lordship. He didn't have time to wonder long, however, as there arose a racket from the audience hall. He rushed there as fast as he could and crashed through the door, his weapon at hand.
He entered in middle of sentence. "...and you know the punishment for treason, Lord Fangora." The speaker was a blonde young man wearing a somewhat battered breastplate. He was surrounded by several Royal Guards.
"Father, what is going on here!" said Toriban, questioningly. The blonde man turned to Toriban.
"Ah, the Childe has returned!" His attention returned immediately to Toriban's father, who was quite flustered.
"How dare you, Issin? What proof do you have that I am not loyal to our Emperor?"
The blonde man, Issin, grinned wickedly. "I need no proof Lord Fangora. It has been declared by Emperor Selphrin that you are a Rebel and a traitor."
"Bah! All Rebels are fools!" Issin's grin suddenly became sadistic rather than pleased.
"Then it appears I am about to kill a fool!" Issin raised his hand and a blue blade shot forth from it directly into Lord Fangora's chest, piercing his heart.
Toriban jumped at Issin and was surrounded immediately by Royal Guards. Issin's vicious laughter filled the air, and seemed to drown out the clashing of weapons as Toriban engaged the Guards. He quickly overpowered the first two he reached, slaying each of them with a slash to the throat. After those two, though, the Guards were ready, and put up a better fight. Blocking a pathetically obvious feint from the one to his right, he double thrusted at the one to his left, piercing his heart with the second strike. As the other's true attack came in, Toriban blocked it with a vicious slam from his weapon, using his weapon's impeccable edge to slice through his opponent's weapon. The sudden change in his weapon's weight forced Toriban's opponent off balance, and he became easy prey for Crimson.
Issin finally seemed to take notice of the battle just as the fourth and final Guard fell. He made a shrill whistle and more Royal Guards burst through the audience chamber door. "Half of you: burn the house. The rest of you, ensure the end of House Fangora by killing this whelp. I take my leave of you now." Issin walked out the door as the Guards scurried to their tasks, ten of them walking menacingly towards Toriban. 'Damn, too many of them,' Toriban thought. 'I'll need to resort to some drastic measures.' He drew upon the Dark Art, letting the powers of anger and pure hatred enter him. He quickly scanned his mind of the techniques that would help him and settled for one that he thought would work. 'Kuroi Kaze, the Black Wind.' Toriban focused his energy as the Guards began to run at him. Finally, as the first was about to strike, he unleashed his assault.
Dark energy shot forth from his arm, then swirled and twisted into a whirlwind. As it struck each of Toriban's attackers, they fell limp to the ground, each one crying out in agony. Toriban winced a little at each scream of pain. Finally they stopped their writhing and screaming and lay dead, their nerves destroyed. Toriban, having used all his energy in his attack, collapsed to the ground and passed out.
He awoke a half hour later in a raging inferno. He rose wearily and wandered out, dodging the flames and searching for servants or guards who had been spared the wrath of the Royal Guards. On his way through the gate he passed Cranden's corpse, though he was too tired to realize it at the time. Once he was a safe distance away, he collapsed into sleep once more.
Three hours later Toriban stood in front of the remains of House Fangora and wept for the souls lost there. Then he set to work. Being the only survivor, it was his duty to bury what remained of the dead. As the last grave was filled, he thought of Issin, the man who had started all this, and felt immense hatred, but he felt even more hatred for Selphrin, whose orders Issin had been following. As the sun set slowly from the sky he vowed then that he would be the one to kill Selphrin and restore order to Untala. These thoughts reminded him of his father's last words, and he spoke them aloud. "All Rebels are fools." Toriban turned away from the ruins to face the sunset. "If all Rebels are fools, I guess it's time for me to put on a jester's cap and play the part."
Toriban, last Childe of the fallen House of Fangora, walked slowly and deliberately down the road, with little else other than thoughts of revenge and death in his mind.