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"...And it was so, that on the very foundation of all that is above, the two of most Holy brethren waged their duel. A War of fire, blood and magic so horrible neither man nor god found fit the words to describe the event in full. The great sun bird, Holy Phoenix, with the great sword aloft and shining with the glare of the first Sunrise itself, struck again and again at his kinsman with might only the gods can muster.
And time and time again, the elder of the pair, black-winged Vulture parried his blows with a skill born from the duty he so longed to carry out. Scythe blade and chain, all as black as the darkest abyss, blocked away the Holy Creator's strikes in sparks and black flame. Their battle waged on like this, the shock from their weapons' collisions like sounds of great thunder to those witnesses above, and of utter doom for those in the lower planes.
At long last, the fatigue of battle finally started to wear in on those most divine, for even the greatest champions can not fight forever. The power they wielded so effortlessly, so wantonly, fissured the great realm of Heaven entirely. A Chasm into the Void beyond, all realms of existence shaken to the core by the vendetta of these brethren deities. And there, floating in the miasma of creation, sat the prize of this conflict. The World As It Was Known. The World carved into existence with the tip of the Sunrise. The World which Heaven was broken for.
It was time for the final stroke. Summoning the energies of Chaos itself, the unholy Destroyer of all that is ordered and good, the dark-god Vautour launched his last attack. Not against his true opponent, but at the unprotected World, helplessly adrift in the abyss. No power wielded in Heaven could have stopped this, but the very body of the Phoenix himself stepped in to save his Creation. The very core of Heaven reverberated with the cries of agony wracked by the Creator and Saviour as the evil miasma tore into his soul, rending his Holy Visage apart from within.
It had gone on enough. The brothers could fight no more. Both the Vulture and the Phoenix folded their wings in an embrace of death, seemingly mortally wounded by their weapons of Divine Design. Their plummet took them through the Rift they had created in Heaven's floor, out into the void beyond, and into the pull of their Prize below them. And as the great bodies of the gods fell to the surface, the very planet let out a wail of despair, for their patron and protector had fallen, defeated.
Chaos reigned over the lands of the World As It Was Known. Without reason, man rose against man, slave against master, common against king. The very face of the World began to change, letting the disorder of Wilderness where the peace of Civilisation once flourished without alter. Humanity seemed prepared to destroy itself with power wielded at the tip of a sword.
But there was hope, left, in the last message of the Phoenix's lone prophet. The final victory over Vautour would come. For the divine can never truly feel the icy touch of Death. 'In time, faithful ones, our Phoenix will rise once more! The Chaos of this new world will be swept away, and the time of Peace and Prosperity will come about once more! Have Faith, and look to the future, for the final destruction of the Vulture's foul curse will soon be at hand!' "
-Excerpt from the Last Chapter, in the Holy Book of the god, Fenix, the only surviving manuscript in the many centuries since it was written.
“Lord of the Skies” had been his name once, an idle thought of past titles flitting briefly through the troubled mind of Lord Ryu. The Elder gazed out from the lower court balcony of the floating palace, eyes narrowed against the strangely forceful breezes that added to the wrinkles of his already much-weathered face. White hair and like shaded beard blew loosely in that wind, unnoticed and uncared for with the deep thoughts enveloping his wearied mind.
“I have said it many times before, Ryu! I will not stand for their rebirth into our world!”
The deep baritone voice, overflowing with indignation and defiance, nearly pulled Ryu from his meditation, as it had succeeded to do what seemed like ages ago. Yet even now, he resisted the urge to massage his temples in frustration. He knew the owner of that voice well enough, that of his hot-eyed, hard headed brother in law. Baer stood a full head and a half taller, several lengths wider, and all-around much angrier than Ryu would have liked, though his being a Lesser made up for the intimidating factors. Dark eyes stared heatedly out of a square-jawed face, and it would have been an easy bet to guess that Baer’s face looked ready to chew holes in iron. Especially once one realized that was how Baer looked all the time.
Once again, Ryu was saved the bother of his usual offhanded responses, his mate, Dove, stepping up in answer to that challenging orator.
“Indeed, sir,” She retorted. “You have spoken it many times. And truth, your opinions were tiresome enough before you had started count!”
It was always a magnificent meeting of contrasts, Ryu mused, whenever his brother-in-law and wife decided to engage each other. Baer’s appearance, with shaved head, browned skin and animal-pelt garments, always boasted his rich heritage as one of Nature’s begotten. Dove on the other hand, was quite pale and diminutive. Standing up beside Baer’s imposing size made it seem as though a mere child challenging her parent. A child, however, who carried herself with the assurance of a millennia’s experience of authority, garbed in regal fashion with ornately embroidered robes. Her cold eyes matched the heated gaze of the Lesser Naturist, staring boldly at him from under a frame of her curled auburn hair. The clipped tones of her voice made all present aware that she would brook no more nonsense from the man before her.
Baer folded massive arms over his wide chest, returning his gaze to Ryu’s still meditating form. “All I ask is the order. Allow me the chance to halt your sons’ destructive natures before they have the chance to continue!”
The mood was spoiled only slightly by Dove’s mocking cackle. “And what, pray, do YOU plan to accomplish in your weakened state, Baer?” She shot a condescending smile at the now-bristling Naturist.
“I have strength enough to handle newborns, you wingless wench!”
“You are as shorn as the rest of us, Barbarian!”
“Peace, the both of you!!” A new voice interjected, cutting off further argument from the two adversaries. Falco, true-blooded brother of Ryu, made his stately presence known. He had donned ceremonial robes of forest green, cut to give the impression of more body mass than was truly beneath the garment. His silvery hair, a slightly darker shade than Ryu’s, was slicked back away from his narrow, plain face. The wired lenses he considered fashionable to wear now dangled from his fingers, the digits of his free hand massaging the bridge of his nose to stave off the apparent headache he was suffering.
“Truly, the two of you bicker like Younglings. And such is wearing thin my last nerve!” He practically shouted. Ryu’s eyebrows rose slightly on his forehead as he regarded his younger sibling with some measure of surprise. Falco was many things: a scholar, a mediator, a negotiator, but he was never so vocal in any sort of confrontation. In all his days, Ryu had heard his brother speak with depth of emotion, with the strength of knowledge. That he would raise his voice in such a vulgar matter betrayed his own fears of the matter at hand.
Dove merely turned away, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. Baer’s face turned an interesting shade of scarlet with the effort of his restraint, yet he managed not to pursue the issue further. His stare was hot, and fixed pointedly at Falco. “Are we to simply sit by, and let our efforts, our creation be destroyed as our home has been?”
That remark did hit home, as it had so many times before when this argument began anew. Ryu’s eyes instinctively returned to the ground beyond the balcony; specifically to the miles-long, black scar upon the land below; a trench, so deep as to obscure all conceptions of a bottom, running long and jagged from horizon to horizon. Even now, Ryu could not suppress the shudder of awe and fear that trembled down the length of his spine from that sight. Even now, that blemish upon the landscape could barely be called ‘half-healed.’ Even now, the villages and communes of the Sangoku lay devoid of civilization, pale houses of white stone scattered and broken on either side of the great rift, like debris from countless shattered porcelain artifacts strewn about the landscape.
It was there that his sons faced each other, and struck each other down over their disputes of creation.
It was there that they had broken Heaven itself.
“We have little option, in truth,” Falco said, replacing the spectacles upon his nose. “The Powers above have forbidden our interference, especially with the matter of those two.” He had oft been one to strictly adhere to such rules and strictures from above. The stubborn set of his jaw, however, betrayed his true feelings on the subject.
Ryu felt himself mimic that gesture, his upper lip curling almost into a sneer, recalling the particular moment. Fate had personally given them this restriction, ‘that the balance and current of time may flow uninterrupted,’ she had said, or some other such bureaucratic nonsense to justify the potential loss of their world. She had no true concept of what it meant to him, to truly have created something.
The heated sound of rising voices behind him signaled the argument beginning anew, the umpteenth repetition of a cycle that had lasted for decades, more and more frequently as the Hour of Rebirth drew ever closer. It was little more than noise at this point. In truth, there was nothing that they could do, even if permission had been granted. Fenix had fought hard indeed to gain control over creation, usurping more than simply Ryu’s position as Lord. His son had stolen the very power from him and his family; the stubby limbs of his shorn wings were proof enough of that fact.
The flickering of multicolored sparkles teased the corners of his vision, bringing Ryu out of his meditation at last. Of course, he had almost forgotten of the one exception to his son’s quest for power. The two remaining members of this diminishing pantheon stood some distance away from the central argument, lost in their own world of mutual worries and feminine comfort.
Usagi was a slight, slender young woman, barely tall enough to peer over her mother’s shoulder. Dark, honey-golden hair spilled down to pale shoulders, slim feminine body modestly clothed in a silken dress of pure white. Those golden locks framed a pretty face, made even more so by her large, expressive green eyes. The strange rainbow-colored motes in the air drifted from the anxious flapping of her iridescent wings; in truth, the only remaining pair among the entire family, in truth.
Yet to look at the one next to Usagi would seem a glimpse into the child's future. Mariposa was almost a mirror-image of her daughter, yet she seemed matured, ripened in her beauty, like a rose in full bloom compared to the closed bud.
Not for the first time, Ryu felt a surge of envy for his brother-in-law.
As quick as it came, the thought was banished from his mind. No, there was no more time. The hour of rebirth was truly at hand. There was no more time to argue. Slowly, he approached the pair. A decision was needed, and it was needed now.
“Pardon, Lady Mari,” Ryu said. “I would have a word with your daughter.” For all the fatherly warmth his voice possessed, his words were still of command. That air of authority earned him a flat look from Mariposa, her sea-green eyes unreadable. But for all of her defiant stance, she acquiesced with a nod. “I suppose it would do to gather Baer, before he and your mate truly do come to blows.” She replied. Usagi’s wide eyes glanced anxiously at the retreating back of her mother, her eyes shining with unshed tears of worry.
“Little one, what troubles your thoughts?” Ryu asked.
“Mother and Father,” she replied. Usagi hugged her arms around herself, shifting as though trying to keep warm. “They wish so much of me now. Mother thinks only of the humans, asking me to preserve and protect as many from what might happen. But Father…” Her voice trailed off, tears ran openly down her cheeks. “He thinks only of Fenix’s death, of stopping their battle before it can begin anew.” Her iridescent wings fluttered, the frustration in her voice feeding to the motion. “The first I am not sure I can do, but I won’t be the hand to raise against him! I won’t!” Usagi opened her eyes then, her gaze shocking Ryu with its intensity. But for all her strength, there was helplessness in her mind, a willingness to comply with the wishes of her elders, yet the desire to protect what she cared about.
Ryu’s heart went out to the girl. Even their kind was not immune to the power of deep emotion. No matter how aggressive Fenix had become in his madness, he did not lay a hand on Usagi with intent to harm. Ryu laid his hands on her shoulders, offering a gentle smile to his adopted daughter. “The desires and solutions of our kin are numerous and varied, yet they matter little. They all turn to you for suggestion, for you are the only one who has not been stripped and shorn of her ability.” Ryu said.
Usagi slowly wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, and straightened her posture, as though straining for every shred of dignity she could manage. “And you, Lord. What would you suggest I do?”
Ryu simply shook his head. “As I said, you are the only one left with power. This decision, this action, is yours and yours alone.”
“What of Lady Fate’s decree?”
“Never you mind about the decree,” Ryu replied, a note of mischief entering his voice. “I am fairly certain any action will be forgiven, provided it is artistic enough in nature.” A smile quirked the corners of Ryu’s mouth. Chance did so enjoy the loopholes in his mate’s law, twisted just right.
Usagi smiled in return, sharing his moment of amusement. The simple gesture seemed to make her face glow with new purity. She turned away to collect her thoughts, her wings forming an adequate enough barrier around her. Absently, her fingertips fondled a thin silver chain draped around her neck, the dangling end lost under the bodice of her dress. It was an effort of Ryu’s incredible will not to hurry her decision. Rebirth was, in truth, merely minutes away.
Thankfully, Usagi’s meditation lasted but a few moments. With her fingers still meshed in the chain, she returned to face Ryu. Her face was smooth, serene; those large eyes betrayed no emotion. “I have an idea,” she said.
“Then I give you leave to implement it,” Ryu replied. A slight inclination of his head was offered to her in parting. “Return to us quickly.”
Usagi returned the bow, her serenity unruffled. Those pretty green eyes were closed for concentration’s sake, those shimmering wings fluttering, shifting, and moving to envelop her body in a soft, gentle embrace. White light appeared before her. It illuminated her body, at the same time it seemed to come from within. There was just the light. Nothing but the Light…
The paved roads before her made traversing this unfamiliar realm easy enough, even with the ordinary impedance of the elements. The rain did not touch her. There was nothing to fear from prying eyes, or questioning pedestrians. The weather and the hour sent all but the most desperate of individuals fleeing for the warmth and shelter of home and hearth. And her destination was clear, more so than if signal fires had formed an arrow in the sky. The feel of swirling energies sang to her, called her onward through the empty metropolis. A job to do.
One last corner was rounded, and there in the deep cover of a closed alley was her objective. To her eyes, a sea of golden, glittering particles swirled and contracted, building into a surging collective of power, illuminating the rain shrouded night like a miniature sun. Even at this point, the core’s form appeared vaguely humanoid. There was little time to tarry.
With careful steps, she approached that swirling mass of golden energy. The swirling particles, seeming a mass of tiny stars about her feet, took care to avoid her body’s mass, yet her presence did nothing to impede their journey to the core. Her eyes were wide, the mass of light in that dark alleyway pulsing with unimaginable potential. So this was his power at the end, she thought.
No time. She was close enough now. Her hand stretched out towards that shifting mass of energy, and a new light began to grow in that shallow space. It was a light that shifted through all the colors of the rainbow, as though a massive prism was placed before that man-sized sun. It was the work of mere moments, yet the whole of the effort felt as though it had taken days, a week’s worth of exertion even. Sweat had begun to bead on her face, her breath coming in heaving pants. Yet it was done.
The small galaxy that had threatened to dominate the space between the buildings had faded away, the miniature sun replaced by a gently glowing orb of soft light, hanging in mid air before her eyes. Carefully, more careful than her approach, she reached into the light, a soft gasp parting her lips as her fingertips came in contact with something soft and warm…and moving.
Her hands withdrew, and between them supported the miniscule weight of an infant child. Her eyes, by some physical impossibility, grew wider still, and she drew the infant to her breast. Her presence shielded him from the rain, though it had in truth slackened somewhat. The babe was male, healthy and perfect, his fragile body covered with simple swaddling cloth of impossibly pure white linen. In the fading light of the orb, a thin line of silver glinted around the child’s neck. Gingerly, she touched the chain with her fingertips, and barely stifled a cry of pain. To her touch, the silver was scalding hot, a temperature that should have rendered the material a puddle upon the ground. Yet the child dozed calmly enough, as though not feeling the heat.
A smile slowly spread across her startled features. The enchantment was working! The fierce nova of power that had startled and worried so many had been contained – but even she herself knew that such efforts would not last forever. It was enough that such a precious life could be protected, even if only for a while.
The ferocious onslaught of the storm suddenly dissipated, in the nature of such weather events. The thick layer of clouds began to drift, separate sections floating apart, the soft pale light of the Maidens’ Moon shining down in gentle shafts upon the sleeping metropolis. Carrying her charge to the edge of the alleyway, a large structure across the street suddenly seemed to shimmer with a pale nimbus in the moonlight. With the rain and wind gone, sounds of soft music and general merrymaking drifted out in the still air of the empty street. An inn, perhaps.
Her time here was soon to expire, she realized with a distasteful twist of her mouth. There were no other options; it would have to do. Gently, she mounted the front steps of the building, carefully placing the babe down before the front door.
“I have done all I can, beloved,” she whispered, her fingertips gently caressing the child’s forehead as he stirred. “The rest will be left to Fate, as she wished.”
She wanted to remain, to keep him in her care, but it was not to be. The swirling embrace of white light had returned to pull her away, separating her from her love once more. With tears welling up in her eyes, she heard the child begin to cry, a keening wail seeking comfort when there was none to give.
“I will return for you, my love,” she murmured, and all was once again lost in the Light.
