Valera. A vast orb of green and blue, surrounded in an atmosphere of space and gas, and watched by a galactic monument. Comets race past its surface like eyes darting across a portrait. And blanketing the planet, a fog of starlight in four distinctive colors. Nightly, it shines, providing stars in a night sky.
There is life in this world. And there is a history of this mysterious energy on the planet's atmosphere. An energy, unlike any other, flowing on the air underneath the curtain of breath, so it doesn't suffocate the planet. Cosmic energy, commonly known as Vim.
Where it came from, nobody alive will reveal, only because they don't know themselves. Some say it comes from the moon, while others, from the stars. But many will tell you, it seems most potent only at night.
Long ago, there were those who became blessed by this celestial energy, called the Lunari. They were the only ones given this energy. From their creation, and following the original beings blessed by vim, a movement was born. More than a lifestyle, it was treated as a religion. The Lunari consisted of four clans, each with their own lore and distinctive abilities, yet they all united to forge the planet's history.
Even from the beginning, they had boasted the use of this power like gods among men. Using their vim, they struck fear into the hearts of humanity and rose to power as kings and queens, monarchs and legends in their own league of those above the common man.
It was this way longer than it may be told by many today. Until Artemis Glavinov discovered a secret of the planet. Power, flowing freely among seas of blue and lands of green. Crystals, found within the deepest of caves, were retrieved and thoroughly studied. With their magnetic properties, these Crystals attract elemental energy and encapsulate it for use within the human body.
Thus, magic was discovered, and was taught in secrecy beneath the Lunari's eyes. Future mages required a customary practice after graduation from the Magic Academy. A Crystal is implanted into a mage's skin for indefinite use without fear of losing their power.
Having lived in the shadow of the Lunari for centuries, humans used this new power to their advantage. They declared war on the Lunari and proclaimed their reign as undeserved and abolishable. The Lunari, though, laughed at the thought. The Celestials chose them for a reason. Who are these people to question their judgement?
Bloodshed coated the lands, as did a vast rainbow of fire from both sides of the battle. But there were far more Lunari corpses left than Human warriors. The Lunari had no choice but to surrender, and they were forced to retreat from Cinedime or risk genocide.
Lunari culture was erased from the annals of history and made into only a forbidden figment of the past, as humanity waved their mighty flags in victory.
Now, triumphant and fearless, humans clutch the land with power at their disposal, and have shaped Valera into a planet of their own vision. Lunari are said to continue to thrive, yet the striking control of the human government weighs heavily on their shoulders. Now, it is unknown where they hail, or if they are indeed alive at all.
And yet, the moon still shines.
The greenlands of Cinedime cover most of Valera, separated only by rivers and mountain ranges leading into its neighboring countries. While those lands have their own capital cities, their light is lost under Theoton's shadow.
Steelgrave, the proud capital of the land of Theoton, is a place of torment and doom for those that revolt against its power. It is surrounded by a wall known as the Brace of Justice. Beyond the walls rests a bustling city, filled with commercial buildings providing for its immense population. The buildings are made of pale colored bricks interrupted by cobblestone roads, filled with the sounds of horses carrying people or pulling carriages.
The city is known for its luxury and for providing only valuable materials for the rich to flaunt their wealth to the less fortunate. Pelts and trophies of the rarest animals are sold in Yonsen's Taxidermy. Sun Garden sells the most exotic plants and crops. Blacksmiths craft armor for Theoton's army, their best clientele.
But the most valuable of all is ale, a resource almost as demanded as Magic itself. On every corner, there is a brewery to provide and a tavern to sell the drink. None of these are without business when there are plenty of mouths to satisfy, most not even soldiers.
In the center, standing tall, is Theoton Palace, a monument unlike any other. It is a fortress of brick and cement, unbreakable as it is identifiable. Four distinguishable flags of blue and black are mounted on each face of its walls, and the famous Grand Trench divides it from the cobblestone roads of the city. As bland as the front looks, though, there is a vast backyard of assorted flowers and plant life, where the princess liked spending most of her time.
"How do I know all this? I used to be her bodyguard.��
"So is all this true? About us conquering humans?" one fellow asks, holding his goblet.
"Who knows? Maybe it's just a crazy story we like telling to tourists like you!" Severus responds, before slamming his empty goblet on the table of the bar.
"Pour me another!" He shouts. His thirst is so unbearable, even a fourth goblet of ale is still not enough to drink.
The weary bartender in her white apron obliges. She's a simple woman; if people have Dali and they keep to themselves, she'll provide them with all they can drink. The bartender has run this tavern for years, much longer than any of her competitors. She always keeps her bar clean and tidy along with her goblets and kegs of fresh ale, delivered weekly by the local brewery.
Severus comes to this same tavern every week.
The bartender finishes pouring the gold colored ale into his goblet and places it flat on the water stained countertop before sliding it down to his open hand. Severus happily pours five red dali beads from his pouch and onto the surface, and the woman in the apron takes them and places them in her bank under the bar. It is starting to get full from all the business she is doing today.
The bar is busy, although it is late in the night. The patrons are happily chugging down goblet after goblet of ale. The betting table is full, with several shouting men playing dice and winning money. An audacious bard is playing his lute while facing strange glances from those not wanting to hear his music.
All of this sounds too enjoyable for a lonely old man like Severus. His dear woman would retch at the sight of his red face from a long night of drinking, wasting his time in this tavern among the rest of these young people without a care in the world.
Everything felt limitless when he was still in Theoton's Army.
Severus places his half empty goblet down on the bar's wooden surface again. At that moment, he can't help but notice the delicious ale is beginning to vibrate. As is the bar. And the floor. Trembles sneak their way under his boots.
The bartender puts down her dried goblet and looks around. Those at the dining tables put their forks and drinks down and look up. The gambling table stops being so loud, they all look at the floor.
Everything is shaking.
Every patron and the bartender jolt out of the front door. They unanimously look up at the night sky. Those outside of the tavern can feel it as well. People start getting out on their balconies and look up. The guards patrolling the streets, they pause and grasp their weapons while looking at the sky as well. Even the mounts, hitched and waiting for their owners, start to grow restless and make their distinctive calls.
Suddenly, a large blanket of black shadows starts covering the cobblestones.
"Ah…" Severus sighs. "It's time."
They fill the sky, these colossal marvels of nature. Feathers the size of sandals fall from their massive wings, and their eyes pierce the night with their fiendish glow. Leather reigns travel from their beaks to around the backs of their necks, and are held by a rider.
There are only a few of these mounts, but accompanying them are what seems like hundreds of smaller winged beasts; humans with the same wings as them, between their shoulder blades, dressed in armor and holding crossbows.
The Skeyes have arrived, easily surpassing the Brace with their unnatural abilities.
They start to land, but only the Skeyes. The beasts still remain in the air, watching over their followers who reach the cobblestone and are being approached by Theoton guards.
"What is this, who are you?!" one guard releasing his longsword shouts.
But his question is met with a sudden arrow in his throat, followed by the screams of several citizens surrounding them. Soldiers are getting shot at by the winged warriors, and people start being lifted, from the ground and into the sky, against their will. They thrash about in the Skeyes' arms, who attempt to calm them with foreboding warnings and assurance of their safety. They are all being taken away, towards the docks of the shipyard.
"Don't worry, everyone! You are all being taken to safety!" one voice is suddenly heard.
Nicolas sits, proudly mounted on his giant Eagleye that has landed on top of the largest building in the shadow of Theoton Palace. He has to shoot several guards who aim their own crossbows at him, yet he uses a worn wooden bow.
His blonde hair and blue eyes make him look not nearly as intimidating as he is trying to be. And on his back, flowing bravely, a white cloak with a familiar symbol of a blue triangle.
"Theoton is going to fall tonight, and Dorian will be executed!" the rider shouts. "We are taking you to safety, but if you don't come with us, the only way out is through the gates!"
Severus is approached by another Skeye, his crossbow in his arms. A sturdy looking golden breastplate covers his bare chest, but exposes his majestic white wings.
"Come with me, sir," he says. "We're evacuating this town before it crumbles!"
Memories flood into Severus' mind. About those old days when he was part of the army. He was never warned about these bird-men before. He was never warned about anybody but the "scum". That was his only enemy, one that couldn't even fight back after they lost the war.
And he lets out a laughter harder than any in recent years, full of boisterous amusement.
"So, he's finally done it!" he says, barely able to suspend his laughter. "I should've never doubted him! Well then! Looks like I've lost my bet!"
The Skeye picks him up, his fingers under the old man's arms, and soon, he's flying with him. He can see Theoton Palace and all its glory. He can see his home down at the southwest corner of the Brace. And there's Yonsen's, right next to the grocer's.
"LIGHT THE BEACON!" a guard screams at the top of his lungs.
But that same guard is slain quickly by a hatchet in his skull, the wielder quick to grab his weapon from the corpse of his victim. Another young man, his pelted armor gives him the look of a fearless hunter, one who has seen countless battles over a lifetime of endless war. He clutches his axe, even its shaft looking far too big for his scrawny pale arms.
That same white cloak drapes over his blood soaked armor.
"Get on tha' merchan' ships!" Kenric shouts in a voice unlike any other human's. Several citizens dressed in the same Theoton attire race past him as the white warrior fends of Theoton guards and their blue swords of fire with his giant axe.
"Get on tha' boats if ya wan' tah live!"
Theoton's ports are becoming engulfed in burning flame, and several much more distinguishable ships with eerily carved figureheads have arrived, having crushed the puny, anchored boats before docking. Several other giant soldiers, twice the size of even the shouting lad, are storming onto the port and slaying the Netherbane men with little to no effort. Their long beards swing with every thrash of their giant weapons.
The Stagrids are notoriously strong and mighty, having strength and resilience like that of gods.
"Evacuate now!" screams one woman dressed in the same white cloak, yelling at the people running for their lives.
"Strange that she's here, though" Severus thinks. "I thought she was dead."
Sienna's cloak forms a covering to mask her head and face, and there is a noticeable scar across her face. Her shadow extends as she whips Netherbanes away with her long black arms. Shadowhearts are expert assassins thanks to their ability to blend into the night, but here, they are proud warriors facing their own kind.
The Theoton Guards wield their weapons which have been feared for centuries, but only few of the intruders have fallen, while the men in armor are being outnumbered. Skeyes, Stagrids, and Human warriors dressed in white armor surround the guards suited in black and red and overpower them easily.
"Fools. He warned you all," Severus prays. "Well, he warned me. I had to see him actually pull off such a massive invasion to believe he would be this reckless. He always felt like he was never fit to become a leader."
And there he is, leading the remaining white knights towards the front gate of Theoton Palace. There are a few carriages rolling beside him, each with a mighty cannon on their roofs.
He has those noticeably bright green eyes.
"Wait!" Severus shouts. "I know the leader, down there! Let me have a word with him!"
"Sir," the Skeye says out loud. "We have to get you to safety now, before the Ascension shows up!"
"What if I told you… I'm a part of the Theoton army?"
The bird-man stops in midair, and hovers slightly, still carrying Severus high above the battlefield.
"What?! How?!" he shouts.
"Oh… I didn't say I'm in it now! I'm retired. But… I do know that fellow. And I have something to say to him. Don't worry, I'm unarmed."
The Skeye frowns and thinks for a moment. He has a strange look on his face, like he may be making a mistake.
The Skeye lowers him down. While still approaching the young man from above, he shouts; his wings flapping slowly to keep them both from falling.
"Sir! This man would like to have a word with you-"
"Severus?" he finally says.
"I just wanted to say… forgive me. For everything I've put you through, lad."
He pauses; his gaze still averted from the old man and the Skeye keeping him afloat.
"I always wanted to say… thank you. And… you were right. You and her, you were right about everything."
All he does is nod with a serious face while raising his arm up; his eyes pinned onto Severus' old face. The Skeye takes that as his command. They fly again, slowly. Yet he can't take his eyes off that boy, down there. That same boy that once, the very thought of would make his blood boil.
That look on his face, though, made it all worth it. And for once, Severus feels relief.
I told you this day would come, old man. Looks like I've won the bet.
They have successfully begun to breach the gate. Nicolas led his men cleanly through the air and Kenric's pirates took care of the naval recruits. Now all that's left is the rest of the Ascension, surely on their way to join the battle.
And, of course, there's Dorian.
Adoc, the General of the Ascension, leads his men through one of the doors leading to the east balcony. His nearly shaven head carries a noticeable black streak of hair up the back of his head and meets near his eyes.
"Bastards!" he shouts. "Where are they all coming from?!"
"Sir", one guard says. "There's too many of them! They've already broken through our defensive lines!"
"What?! How could they, in so little time?!" Adoc replies.
"Well… it looks like they've recruited what seems to be the entire army of all the neighboring countries. Joffenheim's navy, Opariana's artillery-"
"But some soldiers say they recognize some of them as the people from..." another says, interrupting the other. "What were they called… the Blue Trine Alliance?"
Adoc nearly shakes in disbelief. The look on his face, seeing his precious army on its knees by some 'street rats'. He is facing the entire world! Even a soldier of his caliber would not be able to stand against the Blue Trine.
What he does not know about the world is that it has always been his enemy. All it needed was someone to lead it in the right direction, towards his and his King's end.
"Men…" he says. "Defend the palace at all costs."
"But sir, they are too-"
"YOU WILL DEFEND THIS PALACE OR DIE TRYING! THAT IS YOUR DUTY TO HIS HIGHNESS! UNDERSTAND?!"
The private stops himself from fainting, but he nods and clutches his spear.
"Good." Adoc says before getting onto the ledge of the balcony.
"I'll deal with them myself!"
And out of his back, like lightning out of a storm cloud, giant wings break from Adoc's skin, along with a roar. But unlike the Skeyes, these wings are not soft and graceful like feathers, but of leathery skin and jagged bone.
The famous Griffin has decided to bare his fangs
The general jumps off the balcony and his wings flap fiercely, as he soars across the sky before drawing his sword. That shark-tooth sword of his, looking more a decoration than an actual weapon. One unlucky Skeye is in his sight, and Adoc is quick to fly close and slice him out of the sky; the warrior falling to the ground and landing with a thud.
Another is slashed and drops to the ground. And another. The Skeyes start to turn their attention to the unfamiliar flying man, and they aim their crossbows at him and begin to fire. But their arrows are dodged as Adoc swoops in the air, like a bird.
Triton reaches down at his hip and pulls out his Echo Shard.
"Adoc's in the air. Drive him away from the rest of the Skeye warriors," he says.
He can see Nicolas put his own Echo Shard up to his ear, and he looks over at the General. He just now notices most of his troops are gone already.
You got careless, Nic, Triton thinks to himself.
The battle must be really getting to Nicolas he thinks. I can almost feel him getting more nervous by the second. I can hardly blame him.
Silver Arrow. One of his special Offensive Arts using magic arrows, Nicolas' own creation to suit his preferred weapon. He always uses that old bow of his that withstands impact like a broadsword.
It is released and launched towards the flying man, shining like a comet. But Adoc is able to dodge, miraculously, before looking down at the cobblestone, towards the front gate of the wall.
It has been opened. The remaining allied forces have arrived. They race into Theoton with several carriages, mounts and the giant ram that barged through the once thought to be unbreakable gates.
The leader takes this opportunity to deliver one final message to all of Theoton, to Adoc and especially to Dorian. He is able to jump up onto the wall supporting the gate, and he can see Theoton in all of its might. Everything is on fire.
He stands tall, his white cape flowing from either the gentle night breeze, the wind magic being released, or the grace of the spirits dancing around him. He is alone, although many can see him up there. No one can reach him nor can they attempt to. Some try to lunge towards him, but no attack can hurt him.
It's almost over. Theoton Palace is right in front of me.
Without taking his eyes off the palace, he raises his right arm, revealing the symbol. The same symbol that is on every one of his people's arms. It protrudes on his skin, so bright even the blind can feel its power. That cursed symbol which means 'unbreakable weapon' to his ancestors.
He quickly swings his arm, and out of thin air, the weapon is drawn. A blade made of blue flame, which fades to reveal the sword underneath. It is the strongest sword he can hold. If only the remaining weapons that share its power were the weapons of his allies, not his enemies.
"It's him! It's Triton!" one guard shouts before he has to defend himself from a Stagrid's attack.
Triton wastes no more time. He quickly jumps into the air, so high and so far that he is able to land on one of the nearby houses adjacent to the Brace. He runs along the rooftops, hopping from one side to another.
His eyes are fixed on the Palace.
But he suddenly hears a ferocious roar. Adoc races forward, eyes of malice and his hand pulsing with dark energy.
"YOU!" he shouts. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU!"
And he aims his swing of that ridiculous sword at Triton, so slow he could dodge it without trying. He is quick to evade before he raises his own sword. It scrapes fiercely against Adoc's, and he slides across the rooftop.
Another roar, and he flies straight back into the duel. One backflip is all Triton needs to dodge that giant sword of the Griffin. Just as his toes touch the tiles on the roof, he glides towards the General, his blade ready to strike.
Adoc swings his blade rapidly, like a hurricane. But either his attacks are dodged, or they are perfectly blocked. Either way, he is getting visibly irritated, not being able to hit his opponent. Suddenly, Adoc flies high into the air, before thrusting his palm at Triton from afar. A blast launches at him from his palm, only to be replaced once it misses by another.
Being such a basic attack, Adoc is able to fire dozens, even hundreds of dark orbs at Triton, however he is able to dodge every single one of them. He flies backwards to keep his distance from the Netherbane, who readies his blade and concentrates on Adoc's hideous figure.
He can feel the vim flowing through his body starting to pulse. Adoc releases the magic attack once more, but this time...
One concentrated swing of his sword, and a wave is unleashed from Triton's blade. It clashes against the blast, disintegrating it almost instantly. And as the energy is still fading, he is already making his next move, jumping straight towards Adoc and using the smoke created from the impact to mask his attack.
Everything slows down, and he cuts. Again and again and again. He fills the air with as many slashes as possible, and yet, none of them can be felt by the winged man. Not until Triton reaches the other side of the roof.
His feet touch the tiles on the next roof, and there's nothing stopping him from reaching the Palace. Judging from those loud yells, Adoc is feeling the cuts. One after the other. Many can hear Adoc writhing in pain with every fresh wound he receives from what appears to be nothing but air.
Thousand Stars. An attack so masterful not even the greatest of the Netherbanes can pull off: The flow of time slows down as the victim is hit with a barrage of slashes.
Triton nearly jumps off the last house before reaching the palace, as he hears the Griffin's voice echoing behind him.
"YOU WILL NOT REACH THE KING!", Adoc screams, trying to push through the pain caused by Triton's attack.
Light Arrow: Fang!
He is suddenly struck by an arrow of shining light. The General is forced back onto the rooftops further from Triton, before seeing the perpetrator.
"I'll hold him off, Triton!" Nicolas calls out to his friend. "Go get Dorian while you still can! Reinforcements are coming fast!"
He nods with a sense of gratitude, and Triton jumps up, over the Grand Trench that surrounds the palace. Sword in hand, eyes fixated on the window nearest to him and heart pounding in endurance, he can sense the shadow of the wretched man looming in his throne.
Dorian is waiting.
Triton readies himself before shouting at the top of his lungs, a heartfelt shout filled with anger, fury and determination. The war cry of a man bested by years of war and heartbreak, who has overcome tests of valor, strength and courage to lead the war into an assault on this one powerful enemy, hiding behind his massive army and castle.
Before he reaches the window, he finds himself starting to daydream about the past, before this night, before he was a leader. When he was a simple soldier for that one family he always wanted to call his own. When his allies were merely friends, and not those risking their lives for him.
When he was simply Triton Netherbane, former knight for Theoton.
A slight pain from the shattered glass, and Triton is already past the palace's immense security. At the heart of the palace's thick walls of brick and tar lies a room laced with pillars of gold and a floor of marble, so reflective that the torches lining the walls reflect their flames off it's surface, as accurately as clouds soaring over the calm waters of a lake. But the floor is crowded with what seems like countless pieces of armor made of strong, clanking metal. All are pierced or damaged.
These suits are Dorian's trophies, presented as warnings to those who wish to challenge him.
The center of the long chasm is decorated with a long rug of red and black, and at its end, three different sized chairs for the royal family. Two adult sized, one slightly smaller than the other. The largest sits between the two smaller ones.
However, only one is present and sitting at the largest throne with eyes of fire that strike fear in the hearts of many. His wrinkled face hides under the shining crown that wraps around his skull like a vice. His body veiled in a black cape over a suit of black and red armor, like his guards. He sits there, motionless, the sounds of hell ringing in his aged ears. And his famous greatsword leans against his throne.
Dorian Despereaux. King of Cinedime.
"Triton…" he says. "I've been expecting you," Nothing else is said, all he does is stand up and grips his sword.
Triton assumes his dueling stance and prepares for the greatest duel of his life.
"Dorian… shall we?"
The full moon shines its piercing light within the throne room.
"The moon is full… and when the moon is full..." Triton's expression darkens....
"It yearns for human blood…"