Zardien – Lightning’s Fire, Light’s Roar Ch. 1

Summary: Voral finds the Lightning Stone

Archival Note from The Jewel Riders Archive: This story is presented as it was originally published on Stormy’s “Avalon” fan site in the late 1990s and early 2000s. It is presented for archival purposes and for the enjoyment of the Jewel Riders fandom. If you are the author of this story and wish to have it removed from the Jewel Riders Archive (or wish to share more!) please email us at Happy Reading!

The Lightning’s Fire, The Light’s Roar
by Voral

Part One: The Epic of Voral

Sunset in a remote area in Avalon. Deep Forest for miles and not a soul around. If peace were tangible; if harmony could be wrapped into a golden package for just the very act of touching it, this would be the place.

Thus where an old hermit once lived; in this naturally made paradise. And he was perfectly content, for the life of a hermit in this day was wild and free while simple and pleasant. Solitude was a treasure to the old man; but there are some things greater to a man than even independence, if his heart knows right. And so it was when a young obviously peasant boy, five years of age, wandered aimlessly into the forest and came to the place where the hermit lived.

But where on earth did this boy come from? Perhaps from a local town? Impossible. The nearest town was miles away. Or was it? Could it have been that the boy was left by his parents because they had too many already? Could his parents been killed off by raiding barbarians? One thing was certain. This boy’s parents had not lost the boy, for a small scraggle on the back of the boy’s shirt from very crude ink, barely legible, mentioned that the boy should not be with them for the better. But whatever happened to them, the boy would never know, though in the scheme of things it would be for the better. The hermit was what the boy needed. A place where the boy could be free from the extremes of civilization; and simplicity could overwhelm any possibility of greed in the boy.

The hermit named the boy “Vhorr rael”, from a unique variation on an old northern language from the area meaning “blazing of the trees.” Though the hermit, who had no name, found the boy and eventually himself merging this name into the blend of “Voral,” and so that is what the boy became.

The boy, as he grew, turned astonishingly handsome, shunning the dashing looks of much of the nobility, which had among the best looking people in Avalon. He grew well-built and good muscular build (though he looked normal in shape; his strength was slightly above ordinary for a person through his extreme exercising encouraged by the hermit), and wise in the realm of nature; as a hermit should be. However, there was an extreme flaw in Voral, if one looks at it as a flaw. The old hermit had the same one. Voral was naive of civilization; he knew not how the ways of nobles or peasants worked. He was brilliant; but knew little of education. He could read, but received no educational
schooling or certainly not the education the nobility received. What he knew was beauty and nature; and in that he was brilliant. Hardly any man that ever existed knew the forest and how to survive in it like Voral. HARDLY any man. For there were a few…one he would meet…

Voral was naive of evil; of the corrupt nature that inhabits men, for why would someone in such reclusive and peaceful surroundings know of such of thing. It is certainly advantageous in some ways to be naive of evil, but perhaps at least recognizing it exists can help one avoid it. Voral had not this trait, and those who tend not to have this trait tend to learn the hard way. But, at this time, as a hermit, Voral was fine from this flaw.

And as it could have been, Voral would have been perfectly happy as a hermit.

But then again, destiny does work in strange ways…for the fate of the hermit was only to be temporary for Voral…

Voral grew still, and at about the age of nineteen, the old hermit who raised him died. Voral felt much sorrow as much as a person feels for a lost close family member; and buried the hermit under the old man’s favorite oak tree. Voral, though, now at nineteen, would be perfectly self-sufficient and capable of living by himself. He lived on that hill in the old hermit’s hut as a hermit for two more years…

Voral was now just at twenty-one. Two years as he became the sole resident of the hut, he felt life could never get any better. Simple, free, beautiful…what was better than this for a simple-living young man like Voral?

It was about a month after the time he turned 21. (he didn’t know exactly when his birthday was; but with the old hermit who raised him’s help, he was able to figure out the general month around which it was) Voral was taking one of his long walks in the forest to go down to the stream for a nice little meal of fish. The walk was as normal as any other: pleasant, peaceful, beautiful scenery…

…until about half way through…

He was walking down a rather mossy steep slant of ground that had grown over the rocks and soil that was originally there. And it had just rained the other day. It does not take a scholar to figure out what happened next.

As Voral took a wrong step, and slipped on the wet, mossy slant of ground, and tumbled down the slant into a heap on his back. Some of the rocks under the moss loosened as he went over them, making the slip faster and strangely even comedic. Though one would imagine Voral did not think so. Ouch.

After the not-so-nice-to-the-bones little fall, Voral managed to get away with a few bruises. He started getting up, and caught a glimpse of their varied shapes…semi-spherical, egg-shaped, elliptical, lightning bolt-shaped, triangular ones, some mixed…

…hey, wait a minute!…


Voral turned his head back to a glowing variegated copper-yellow shining rock. It was shaped exactly like a lightning bolt.

Voral shook his head in fascination. This could not be real. A rock shaped so perfectly like a LIGHTNING BOLT? In the middle of NOWHERE?

He picked it up in utter curiosity, and began dusting it with the bottom of his brown vest. The stone began glowing

A flash. The sound of a thousand storms transferred to light in this one blaze of energy. Voral felt a strange power surging through every tip of his body like…well…to avoid a bad pun…lightning.

And then…..all quiet. The rock, or as Voral seemed to think a better term for it, the STONE went back to it’s low glittering state. The light was gone; as if it never happened…YEAH, RIGHT. Voral’s body was so pulsating with energy if Energizer were around in that day they’d mistaken him for their bunny.

A voice. Nearly nothing, very strange-sounding words whispered very softly through Voral’s mind.

“…gUaRdIaN…yOu ArE tHe ChOsEn GuArDiAn Of ThIs StOnE…kEeP tHe PoWeR wELl, ChOsEn OnE…fOr LiGhTnInG hAs BeStOwEd iT’s PrEsCeNcE uPoN yOu…”

The voice was gone…and Voral looked at himself.

HEY!…those weren’t his clothes…since when did he have shining dark copper-colored gauntlets and a cape, and a dark brown tunic and pants? And this copper-yellow variegated belt…and this small insignia on the left side on his tunic of a glowing hand…And what about this helmet he felt on his head over his raven black hair? It was a dark copper color like his gauntlets.

He then looked at his vest. A LONGSWORD??? The handle golden, and the two sides of the handle sticking out were of a VERY strong copper alloy in the shape of two arms with lightning bolts wrapped around him. And
the blade itself…astoundingly sharp and beautifully crafted.

And then…magic brought him the thought he needed…why he had this…and unlike any other person, Voral in one moment realized what he had in his power and what he had become…the vessel of the power LIGHNING STONE…

Thus Voral the Jewel Rider was born…and the real story begins.
That’s it. Stay tuned for part two, the story of the demented yet extremely cunning and brilliant Baronet Kilivirain and how he acquired the COUNTER LIGHTNING STONE.



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