The winter had just begun to find it's way in, the temperature had already started to drop drastically, although not yet by enough to effect the silver haired young man who walked through the corridors of the Academy that had now been his home for many years.

He had lived now for five hundred years, but was still considered young by the standards of this world. His mind drifted along as he walked the long, stone walled corridors. He was preparing for the first test as a trainee in the Guild. He was confident of his skills as a fighter, and this test, empty handed, he knew he would pass.

His hair fell to his waist straight and smooth, accentuating his youthful features. He was considered by many to be handsome, if not beautiful, which was unusual for many of the members of the Guild. His form was beginning to show signs of the muscle very often seen in Warriors, his arms and legs beginning to look well toned as he walked with the signs of a man who was destined to be more than just a basic fighter. He seemed almost graceful, his back straight and head held high, eyes looking perfectly forward.

He had entered the Guild much by force, having been trained before his application. His family, the Akara family had been shamed many, many years before and expelled from the Guild and had been denied access for all eternity. However, the young man, Saladin Akara, had entered the Academy, not hiding his identity, and openly challenged anyone to a fight, he had been taught only empty handed fighting. His condition was that, should he win, he would be accepted into the Academy as a full member of the Guild, as were all initiates.

He had not expected to fight the man he had. A large, very tall, heavily muscled brute, scars covering his face and body as he ran at the young boy, confirming the acceptance. The fight was one that lasted nearly an hour, but in the end, Saladin came out victorious, even though he was left severely injured. He was accepted, and since that day, nearly two hundred and seventy years ago, he had been training.

Even though he was accepted as a full member of the Guild and showed much promise, he was very much an outcast, people remembering the shame of the Akara family, and still holding the grudge there. Saladin had very few friends, and was generally the target of many attacks. Although, his teachers attempted, and succeeded to some degree in stopping the attacks.

However, even at such a young age, he was stubborn and proud. The constant jibes and attacks upon his person, and the name of his family only served to drive him harder. He had come to the Academy in a direct disobedience of his father's wishes, in an attempt to regain honour for his family name.

Noted as one of the most self-disciplined students at the academy, he spent many more hours than were required in training, constantly moving to improve himself. There were a few teachers, seasoned Warriors who were thought of as the greatest fighters after the Generals, would always assist him in his training. In truth, he felt more of a connection towards those people than he did the students whom he had grown to call friends.

Although, friends wasn't quite the right word. Family was a much better description, as from the day he had entered the massive, strone built fortress that was the Academy, he had not left. The people here were his world.

He continued walking the corridors, heading towards one of his theoretical calsees. Today it was to be in regards to strategies during open field combat, and the organising of troops in such a battle.

He smiled slightly as he got nearer towards the lecture hall, he always enjoyed the classes on strategy.