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[Tay Thormear]

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Fireball after fireball blazed across the damp air. Grigori closed the gap between him and his father. Beowulf parried most of his sons punchs, but finally his warfork was disarmed.

It was close to evenly matched, spell wise. Beowulf's choice and spells and his casting was a bit more harnessed than the sixteen year old drow. Agility wise and strength was, Grigori had the upper hand. He was much younger, and in much better shape.

After the training session Beowulf went to the dungeon Wind. It had been a few years since he last visited the secret soceity. -The same one that trained Grigori-

"I can't stand being old. Im slower, I feel weaker, I sleep much more...I just can't handle it. I'm use to being one of the best fighters, even though I'm extremely skilled and quick with spells, my body just isn't as fast." Beowulf was talking with one of the elder members. The man nodded a few times and motioned for Beo to follow.

The two travelled beneath Wind, finally they reached their destination. A fountain poured out of a crack in the corner of the wall. A small pond laid beneath it. The water shimmered and sparkled.

"I am willing to help you in reviving your youth Beo. Everything about you will stay the same, except for your appearance, and your condition. In order to revive your youth you have to sacrifice something dear in your life."

Beowulf sighed quietly, so many times he had to sacrifice something to get something else. He worried about what the cost would be.

"You must give up your desire to fight, and your lust for battle. You will take an oath, and if you ever break this oath, you will lose what you desired most."

"Your kidding me right? I'm asking for my youth so I can be an even better fighter." Beowulf replied, slightly irritated.

"A better fighter you will be, but only when you must. Do not attack just any body. Unless you are threatened, a person close to you is threatened, or the virtues you stand by the most - Justice and Sacrifice - are broken before your eyes, you will not fight."

"What about training, sparring?"

"Those are obviously fine. But your nack for attacking some body out of hatred or an argument, will happen no more. Attacking somebody because someone else decides to, is not a reason. Only fight if it is your fight, only fight if you must."

Beowulf nodded, he quickly decided this was a fair trade. After he understood the instructions he saw them through. He bathed naked in the pool of life, water created only by the tears of Ki-rins and Unicorns. The man aiding in the ritual casted several spells, and spoke a series of words.

Beowulf emerged from the pool a while later. The color that was stripped from his hair because of a curse, had once again returned. The bags under his eyes disappeared. His muscles once again tonned and visable. He lept out of the water, and bounced quickly on the balls of his feet.

Now he was ready. He could keep up with the younger fighters. Not only spell wise, but agility and vitality wise. Now he was ready to train his apprentices.