Once upon a time there was an adventurous young boy named Noah. He lived in England with his family of five; His Two sisters, Anne and Suzy, and his parents. His father was a blacksmith, a common trade, not giving much as salary and his mother, a home-working woman, not profiting the family any money. They were poor and survived by thrown away food and money given from the rich. Noah’s father had always wished for Noah to follow in his footsteps and become a blacksmith as well. Noah, on the other hand, had no intention to obey his father, seeing how it had turned out. He had only one wish; to become a knight. His father had given him a wooden sword as a gift on his ninth birthday, a sword granted from a generous man. Neither of them would guess that sword would change his course of faith.

Noah had many times gotten carried away with that particular sword, him and his friends giving in to their fantasy a bit too much. They performed fights for the fair maiden Antoinette, the pretty daughter of sir Wallington, owner of the local button factory. The battles were always without her knowledge of course. One of the fights had cost Noah a friend as the battle had developed from a game to a fight between two teenage boys fancying the same girl. Noah had lost the fight and the rivalry between them had remained. Noah always blamed the loss on him having one of his black curls in his eye, even though no one believed him it proved a porpoise for Noah, Somehow containing his pride. Seeing how Antoinette paid no attention to either of the boys, the fight was a huge waist. She had a look for the boy in the bakery, the one who could sing. At the age of sixteen Noah had trained countless hours with his worn out sword and nobody could compare in the skills he possessed with the blade. He often tried to teach the younger boys, mostly to soak in the appreciation and the impressed looks they watched him with. When he was going out on a Sunday afternoon to escape to the forest with his good friend Marvel to chase the evil dragons amongst the trees, the sword was missing. He turned the house upside down in his desperate chase of the sword. Even if the sword was old and damaged, he had grown strongly fond of it. He impatiently opened a box in the back of the house. It revealed a glittering sword with inscriptions on it. Noah hovered with his hand over the elegant weapon, scared it would disappear if he touched it. He realized how much money he could earn by selling this, his family wouldn’t have to live on the old, hardened bread the bakers threw out. They could fill the thin soup with fresh spring vegetables. They wouldn’t be threatened by death through starving. With those thoughts in mind Noah cautiously took the sword in the grasp of his hands, reading the swirly text on the blade of the weapon.

“The one who reads this is to be removed from this place, into the Seventh World. He shall bring peace to the world of misery and war. The one who reads this is the chosen one”