A.N. VIOLENCE BEGINS CHAPTER 3!!! So anyways, this story could be thought of as what the world would be like if a super powerful demonic lord (Baelen) overcame an angelic ruler (Oración) and sent some freakish looking demons to take over heaven. But the God of this story (Oración) created not the world and its creatures, but six elements instead (Earth, Fire, Wind, Water, Forest, and Lightning). Then each took on an Embodiment, or human form, and they made a planet. Now, the humans that they created are the world's (and Heaven's) last hope. Ok, so anyways, onto the story.
Oh, and it's rated for mild/severe violence and mild swearing, mostly from the main character.
Chapter 1 – Fallen Angels
Destruction is impending, and fast. The minions of an uneasy Underworld assault the Heavens to slay all that lies in their path. For God did not create this land; the ruination would come to the nameless world of the Six. I say nameless because of their incompetence… the creation of their power was little more than a misconstrued, misshapen rock, devoid of the mammalian presence, of shape or form, of nature or its will, of life or law. What should have taken seven days spanned the time of two months, perhaps less even regarding the Six's inexperience. Nevertheless God looked on with a smile as his "children" completed their job. However, the selfishness that plagued their world would result in their undoing, and this was God's Worst Fear.
Heaven had become a bastion of evil, the slaughter made it seem no more civilized than a madhouse, infested with savage Neanderthals and bloodthirsty brutes. Demons ran amok and tortured the captured, bereaved citizens of overwhelmed cities. Only the swiftest angels escaped the nebulous hands of the Underworld. Dark hands. They engulfed the light to feed their assaults as the demonic army journeyed forth. It was the year 666… the Demon King Baelen had ordered the strongest of his unholy soldiers to storm the Greater Plane, an otherwise foolish and impossible task. Yet they found a way to use God's own power and mystical excellence against him. They faced little oppression as they went from town to city to metropolis, wiping out meager police forces and defensive structures. Under the special circumstances that the demons had long awaited, they fearlessly took over, and there was plenty to take over.
From the Royal City of Mal Caanica, the first of the captured settlements and therefore the one which the Demon Knight Mephora declared the demonic outpost, the footman demons poured out like raindrops from storm clouds. The endless flow of devoted creatures was a truly impressive sight to behold, no matter how corrupt. Despite the laudability of their massive horde, their malicious behavior immediately dispensed any feeling of appreciation or respect that one might gain while admiring their fleet. Nonetheless, the indefatigable manner in which the fiends spread their incorrigible ruination was incredible. They laid siege to all signs of holy culture and life. In their wake, they left little more than wreckage and fallen comrades. Yet thousands more warriors ready to die for a wicked and unholy cause were present and wielded more than enough power to accomplish their ultimate goal – the ruination of the human race.
With a grunt, Lord Oración, the almighty God, stepped onto the great white podium. He was very distraught and his countenance suggested his immense discomfort. His elegant, white robes, however, countered the displeasure about his face. A gold cross embroidered on his gown glinted faintly under the torchlight coming from all sides of the room. The Room of Six Souls was very large; there were some fifty torches littering its glass walls. In each pane was the same reflection – six great, stone shrines with pillars resembling umbrellas in two rows, the grey stone floor with an ancient symbol engraved into the middle, and a shining pathway leading to the large, gold double doors through which one entered and exited. Before these resided the pillar upon which the Angelic Lord stood so firmly.
Glancing around, God thought very slowly to himself. I knew I would regret placing this Anti-Barrier, he reiterated in his head. He then stared intently upon a sphere of light encasing the six shrines. The disimpassioned gaze in his eye seemed to destroy the "pure" aura that followed him around like a homesick lemming. With the most deliberate speed, he slowly lifted his arm and clenched his fist, striking a pose to position himself for a solid punch. His arm pointed towards the gargantuan ball of light and he hesitated before following through.
"Here goes NOTHING!"
Lord Oracion's voice boomed and the echo of the sound bounced happily from wall to wall, drowning out the noise produced by the impact of the punch. Divine flesh met ancient barricade and in an instant, the wall of light gave up its defiant resistance with a satisfying CRACK. Immediately, God peered through a hole in the light-emanating orb no bigger than his own skull, but the cracks ensuing forth from the aperture bridged on for several feet. The tributaries leaked a white luminosity, though the sphere itself was blue. The stage was now set for it to happen.
The King of Light then wasted no time.
"Earth, Fire, Wind, Water, Lightning, Forest! Come to me!" He raised his arms high into the air and in response, three crystalline balls shot forth through the crack in the barrier, breaking off pieces of light from the gap and continuing towards their target.
Three of the pillars released blinding lights from the apices of their "umbrellas" simultaneously with the summoning of the arcane objects from within their encasement. The white light shot upward, but blended with the blue light of the surrounding force field. In the centers of the crystal orbs were brilliant displays of what appeared to be forces of nature at work. In one was a swirling tornado; the second hosted a mighty lightning storm, and in the third was a tropical wood. The glistening spheres swooped down and made a sharp halt several feet before their summoner. God, who still held his hands high above his head, let his eyes roll slowly from sphere to sphere before glancing ahead into space. The floating balls resembled a team of acrobats, as they performed several formation movements during their flight.
"Now," the Lord began, "come to me in this time of dire-"
He stopped as something came to his attention. "Wait a second. Where are Earth, Fire, and Water?!"
The ball encasing the vicious whirlwind suddenly drifted forward several inches. "…I, er, think I can answer that one. It…has been a while, Lord Oración, since I came here last." God sensed an accusatory tone in the voice that came from God-knows-where (using that figure of speech in a literal sense, for he was really did know how the big, shiny ball could talk.).
Suddenly, in a flash of light, a humanoid figure erupted from the round crystal and the body emitted a mild glow of light (Goodness, I'm about to have a seizure with all of these lights, God thought to himself). The figure resembled a young man, no more than 18 or 19. He wore a grey jacket with a white shirt underneath to match the white scarf wrapped precariously around his thin neck. A white ban on his fair-skinned forehead bore a strange symbol of three triangles, two congruent and pointed downwards with a small space in between them, and a third triangle of half of the size of the first two, but pointed upwards. The corners of this triangle's base touched a corner of each of the other two triangles. His gold bangs hung freely over his headband and into his sapphire eyes, and danced with one another when mysterious winds wrapped themselves around the young man's thin body. His hair was short and followed his skull to his neck. An emblem with straps coming out of four sides served to close his vest and his baggy white pants were tucked inside of two dirty, yellow boots.
"Oh Great One," the boy addressed. His voice had mild timbre with a precocious ring to it. Perhaps this reflected the solid intelligence that he obtained as direct result of his true age. "It is a terrible loss indeed, but I, Gale of Wind shall tell you of it all."
Lord Oración, the mightiest of the mighty and the greatest of Gods, became uneasy at these words: "Enlighten me." His voice was shaky and his eyes were slightly glassy.
"Earth, Fire, and Water's embodiments are condemned!"
To think that his own creations were in the Underworld Dimension! The Great Lord, spirit of all that is holy, couldn't create something unholy; how could three of his very own creations be confined to damnation in Hell? When did such an abomination occur…his prized works of art, three of the Elements, victims of torrential suffering in the Lesser Plane…no, this he would not stand for.
A fiery glint lit up in the mighty god's eyes. "So, Gale, where are you going with this?"
"I think you know." Gale's ethereal body floated steadily in the air, and his blue eyes stood fixedly upon the wrinkled face in front of him.
"The production of the seventh day---It"
"The Hexsoul was prematurely released upon a forthcoming several years ago," Gale mentioned.
"Lord Oración, Your Majesty, we of the Elements sought refuge from our troubled world in your Kingdom. We wished to alert you, but as you know, it was a rather unsuccessful attempt."
"Yes, Gale, of course." Lord Oración sensed a vociferousness of sorts about Gale. Though the young man spoke calmly, he consistently pressed on his superior that he, the Lord of Heaven, should take the blame for the demons' victories in combat. Of course, the Heaven Enforcement troops refused to pinpoint a source of their troubles.
"So hast thou been monitoring the Hexsoul as it walks the planet?" the divine ruler politely asked.
Gale released a deep sigh. "Well, through all of the troubles in our world, by 'our' I mean the Elements', things have been going quite roughly lately. And with half of us kidnapped and damned by a bunch of demons, that means twice as much work output is necessary for those of us capable of---"
"So do you know where it is or not?"
"Welllllll…no. Aaaaaactually…well, no."
Lord Oración merely released a knowing hum and turned his back on Gale. The two remaining crystal spheres floated precariously. Despite a lack of facial expression (they ain't got faces, man), the crystals somehow managed to portray emotions. How exactly they did it was uncertain.
"I'm sorry, Oreo," the young spirit interrupted.
"I demand proper respect!" boasted the mighty God of Light. "Thou shalt address me by 'Lord Oración."
There was a dreadfully long silence as Gale stared curiously at the back of the grey hair covering the aged head before him. He was quite carefree and found a pestilent pet peeve in the god's pragmatism.
"Continuing on, Lord Oración, I'm afraid that I must make my departure."
This caught Lord Oración's attention, and he swirled around with enough speed to lift the hem of his elegant robe several feet off of the ground. But he was nevertheless too slow, for Gale was nowhere to be seen. Forest and Lightning's balls levitated innocently several feet behind where the spirit had been just moments before.
A kind of catalepsy swept over the holy idol as he stood rigidly on the platform. He almost felt blown off by his creation—his son; perhaps it is my fault this war ever happened, he though to himself. If his actions in the past had been different, maybe bloodthirsty demons and vicious apparitions wouldn't have overrun the holy kingdom. But it mattered not, for in his state, he could do little to remedy the pestering problem.
And onward goes Wind into the Blade
The light quiets down, restoring the shade;
Awakening yields an ancient surprise,
For Arcanum hides from those mortal eyes.
The cry of the man on the war-tattered day,
Shalt not remedy cataclysm bearing his way;
L'Goria's wake shields the devastation,
Marked for eternity in this revelation.
And he rose frantically from his slumber, the images madly prancing around his tormented and battered mind. Such a fledgling was incapable of bearing the insurmountable agony of the acute cacophony issuing from the excess of the visions. It was a nightmare?, no, more than that. The climax of his mental parade more than sufficed to overshadow the mild, perhaps subtle end to this haunting experience.
Amidst the swirling torrent of confusion and blind disorder racing in his head the startled teen discerned one final image from the dream: a young man of about his own age with short blond hair, dancing bangs, and a strange headband descended upon his humble town, passed into a disturbingly familiar household, and disappeared inside an old relic identical to one that he could call his own…
The scream designating the termination of his restless sleep bounced from wall to wall, never penetrating the familiar confines of his room. His mind was scrambled worse than his mother's eggs, his brain shut down and its workers on leave. His breathing was heavy and rapid; uncoordinated. Each breath tried rigorously to begin its own breathing pattern but failed terrifically with the ensuing breaths coming at totally random times.
What's my name, he thought. Sadly, he couldn't remember his name, age, where he was, or what day it was. A nightmare about the impending end of Heaven, God running to the Elements in a desperate measure…it was uncanny.
"Oh, man, my head," the young man moaned. The lethargy plaguing his voice was quite conspicuous. It made him sound quite older than he really was. His blank stare then floated unconsciously to a trophy with the message "Tetsuri Archaia – for 1st place sprints" on the front. But before he could recollect himself, something happened that would twist his destiny in a way that nobody could ever have imagined.
A.N. So, what do you think? If you review me, I review you, promise! Anyways, this God is not the God from monotheist religions. He has a name other than "God." BTW, "Oración" is Spanish for "prayer." The story actually turns into a straight fantasy soon, this is just background stuff that's important to the story. Please read!!