The Adonai, General Myhael Murdock, watched his town from high above in his ivory tower. The midday sun warmed Talvory City, accompanied by the refreshing rushes of a breezy day. The capital of the Outskirts, the city was alive with all races of people, each seeking shelter from the dominion of the Angelic Morning Star Kingdom beyond the sea. As a port town, the winds carried with them the salty tang of the ocean and the tranquil sounds of waves crashing against the docks. The Adonai had the greatest view from his perch. From atop the Government Tower, he could see the vastness of the Outskirts as they extended into the horizon. He watched the movement below him, tiny dots in motion.
They walk as if they're free...they bustle as if they own the world...
His large, muscular frame cast a long shadow behind him as the sun shone in through the window.
But birds born in cages do not long for the wind. He ran his finger along the number 4 tattooed upon his chest. It is only the free who can truly suffer imprisonment.
He turned his eyes to the horizon, his gargantuan shoulders held high as he clasped his hands behind him.
It's out there...a legend upon the wind. The Birthright of—"
"Your Honor!" a gleeful voice called out from the doorway.
"You may enter."
The door promptly opened to reveal a small young woman with little goat horns sticking out of her blonde hair.
"Lieutenant Morgans," the Adonai said without turning away from the window. "I assume you have some news about the bounty we issued?"
"Sure thing, Your Honor!" she said as she twirled her golden pigtails. "A man by the name of Sergei Varseir claims to have a person of interest. A girl, actually—one with white irises and black eyeballs."
"Strange eyes, you say?" The Adonai stroked his mustache. "That doesn't seem right, but...tell me more, Morgans."
"Well the guy runs like a club or something? He made his deal really secretive, so I'm not sure he's legit."
"Then why don't I pay him a visit," the Adonai said, smirking, the sun shining upon his bald head. "Personally."
"Alrighty!" Morgans said. "I'll send the reply right away!"
The Adonai stroked his mustache with his large fingers. As he heard the door close, his mind drifted.
Those eyes...could it be...?
Outside, the sun had lowered from its noontime position, shifting the shadows below.
I know you're out there somewhere...a power waiting to be harnessed...
He turned from the window.
The Children of Vespira...
The Starborn...
Uri softly hummed a joyful tune as he swept the coffee shop floor. Outside, the sun had not yet risen, its presence still only a golden hue upon the skyline. Clanking noises came from the kitchen, along with the muffled growls of Joseph and Alphonso bickering with each other. At a table by the window, Vylet sat with Pal, carefully rolling the silverware into nice napkin wraps.
"It's been some time since I've seen my grandson so happy." Pal said, smiling and taking a sip from his coffee mug.
Vylet placed another roll on the table without looking up.
She smiled. "He probably feels like we're a family again."
"It's understandable." The old man took another sip. "He lost his mother and his brother back-to-back."
"Philiae?"
"He was so close to her, too..."
"Pal Burns," a deep voice boomed at front door, causing all inside to jump.
"Emerson, and just like clockwork, too..." Pal said as he stood. "Uri. Unlock the door. He looks grumpy."
The young boy did as he was told and the door swung open.
"Where is Philos?" the guard captain raged as he entered.
Pal took a calm sip from his black coffee mug. "He went to retrieve some supplies for me. Why?"
"This is no joke, Burns!" The captain's voice was hard as nails.
"Okay, okay," the old man laughed, motioning for the other to follow. "We'll talk around the back of the building."
"I can't believe you, Burns!" Emerson exploded as soon as they were in private. "You know the deal! You were supposed to keep Philos in the shop!"
"Oh come now, Emerson," Pal said, waving his hand in dismissal, "he's nineteen years old. I can't keep him locked away forever."
"He beat one of my guards to near death!"
"Well, I'm sure your guard had it coming. Philos wouldn't just go harming people for no reason, you know. Besides, what's the harm in giving him some fresh air?"
"Fresh air?!" The captain's mouth gaped. "You know what happened to him five years ago! You know what he is! You know what happened to Philiae!"
"Ah! So this all goes back to Philiae, does it?"
"They hunted her down! The fact that you're even still standing is a miracle!"
Pal contorted his face, his laugh lines disappearing with his scowl. "Don't bring my dead daughter into this."
"You say that like it isn't a miracle Philos is still alive!" Emerson rubbed his temples with his fingertips. "Look. Either you keep him locked up, or I will!"
"Bah!" Pal sneered as he turned to enter the shop's back door. "Okay. Captain."
"You know I don't want to do this, Pal. I really don't. It's for the safety of the city, that's all."
The old man said nothing.
"Look." Emerson began again, his voice low. "he was a slave, Pal. If the Angels of Heaven found out that he's here, they might just break the treaty with the Outskirts and attack. And even more than that, he's..."
The coffee shop owner shot the captain a splitting glare. "He's what, Captain?"
Emerson sighed. "Look, Burns," he began. "I know what you are. I know what your family is. I've done my best to hide your whereabouts from the world, but I can only do so much. I'm worried. Philos' presence worries me. The guard he demolished told me that the boy healed almost instantly. If that's the case, do you think that the Birthright...?" He trailed off.
Pal smiled slyly. "I have no clue what you're talking about, friend."
"Listen you prideful old geezer!" Emerson shot back. He sighed once more, calming himself. "Look. Do you think that maybe what happened to your grandson over the last five years..."
Pal raised an eyebrow, his eyes gray behind his glasses. "What are you getting at, friend?"
There was a moment of silence. The old man watched the captain try to find the words.
"Do they know about their family, Pal? About the bloodline your family holds? Do Philos and Uri know that they're," —he took in a deep breath— "that they're Starborn?"
"So that's what's bothering you?" Pal's face became soft. "You worry too much, friend. It will make you an old man too soon."
Emerson said nothing, his eyes shifting to the ground.
"Come," Pal said, "I'll have Vylet go find Philos, if it will make you feel better. Now, tell me. How about some breakfast?"
Philos strolled through the market district, his eyes drifting around the bustling city. It was odd, seeing everyone roam from stall to stall. Everyone seemed so...free. He stopped at that thought.
Free...The word swam in his mind. Am I really...free?
It felt unnatural.
Philos gripped his chest. Was he really safe now? Or would they come for him? He looked at his arm. Of course the scars had long since healed. But that didn't matter. He could still feel the needles pierce his skin. He could still feel the syringes pulling out his blood. He could still imagine the glow of the halos as he lay upon the stretcher.
Free, huh?
He thought about Astrid. He thought about the baker, about the hateful glances the people of the city gave his new friend.
We're a lot alike. We both know what it means to be alone.
But it was still there. He couldn't shake it. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was, somehow, connected to her. It was as if he knew she were to play part in something. But what?
He felt drawn to her, but he didn't know why.
Philos jumped as the sound of trumpets exploded, blasting through the streets. Suddenly, people began to bow.
What the—? He thought as he shrank behind a blacksmith's stand.
As he peered over the kiosk, he could see a grand chariot surrounded by elegant soldiers moving down the center of the market. All around, the citizens of the city bowed in fear as the golden cart passed them by.
What the...?
"Praise the Adonai, our guardian!" the people began to chant in unison.
Upon the golden throne, a tall, imposing man sat, watching the people as he passed by. Philos could see the man's face. It was hard, scarred and grizzled. From above his perch, his gaze scanned his subjects, watching each person as the chariot passed them by. The golden wheels rolled down the gray streets, and before long, the Adonai had passed. Many stayed, continuing to bow after the chariot had passed.
"What happened?" a little girl whispered to her mother. "Who was that?"
"Be quiet, honey!" the mother shot back. "That's our savior."
"Why is he here?"
Philos could barely hear the two bicker beside him.
"He's here to take the Devil away."
Devil?! Philos felt his blood rise. Quickly, he looked around, taking a blade from the rack. The word "devil" meant only one thing, and that one thing was obvious.
Astrid is in trouble!
"He's coming here?!" Sergei gasped, fear trickling up his spine.
"That is correct, sir," Hendrik replied with a bow.
Sergei took a deep breath, trying his best to melt the fear from his face. He shook his head, took a deep breath, then exhaled.
"No matter," he said after a moment. "We have nothing to fear. When he lays his eyes on that devil, he'll be convinced, and the money will be ours."
"Yes, sir. A genius plan. Absolutely genius."
"And I assume you have prepared her, right, good Hendrik?"
"Yes sir," Hendrik said, clapping his hands.
At his command, three men emerged from the darkness, leading a shackled, muzzled, Astrid from within the shadows. A wry smile creased Sergei's face as he stared into her freakish eyes.
"Hello there, my little kitten." he laughed as he softly caressed her pale face. "You're about to make me a lot of money." He snapped his fingers. "Take her away."
At their master's command, the men turned the girl around, pushing and prodding at her to make her walk.
"A lot of money..." he laughed as she was led away.
That bastard! Her mind was lit aflame.
Her chains rattled as she was led trough the main hall. She could feel the amused glares of everyone in the room as she walked shamefully past them.
Why?! her mind screamed. She thought of everything in her life; she remembered all the hate she'd experienced, thought about the jeers and derision. Why do they hate me?! What did I do?
But there was no hope now. She was going to be sold. This was the end.
She thought about the people of this wretched city, how she hated them so—all of them...
Then she thought of Philos.
She couldn't explain it. He was stupidly happy all the time and an optimistic idiot, but she couldn't help but feel what he said was true. She couldn't help but wonder if they could've really been friends.
A friend...yeah right...
Still, she felt a strange connection to him, a feeling that she was meant to meet him. But...
None of that matters now...
She could feel tears welling in her black eyes. No. Nothing mattered now.
Philos swiftly moved behind the stalls, slipping from one kiosk to the next as stealthily as he could, keeping his eyes keen upon the chariot as it traveled down the streets.
Astrid! His mind raced. I've gotta save Astrid.
Suddenly, a firm hand took hold of him.
"Philos!" Vylet whispered sharply into his ear. "Don't even think about it!"
"They're going for Astrid." Philos ignored the other's admonition. "I don't know why, but that guy with the big muscles wants her for some reason."
"Astrid?" she replied. "What does he want with Astrid?"
"That's the thing! I don't know, but I'm afraid that he's going to hurt her."
"And..." Vylet sighed deeply. "You want to save her, don't you?"
Philos smiled stupidly, his face lightening. "Absolutely!"
"You're hopeless. Do you know that?"
"Well," he said, ignoring her comment, "are you gonna help me or what?"
Vylet stared into the other's reddish-brown eyes. She smiled. You never give up, do you?
"Alright. I'll help you." She narrowed her eyes. "But this is a one-time thing!"
He smiled. "I knew you'd understand, Vy!"
She sighed. "You're definitely hopeless, Philos."
"Now that's what I like to hear!"
Philos walked on, followed by a grumbling Vylet, both of them trailing the chariot as it took a turn down a smaller street and stopped. From around the corner, the two could see a large mansion, a massive house, towering over the surrounding buildings, with a giant sign: "Varseir Club."
"So she really is a dancer..." Philos said blankly.
"Of course she is!" Vylet glared at him. "Why would she lie about that, dude?"
The chariot came to a halt. The soldiers all saluted as the Adonai stepped down. His bare chest was striped with strips of leather and golden armor, leaving the tattooed number 4 upon his chest visible to all. He stood, and a round man in slick furs approached him.
"Glorious Adonai!" the man exclaimed. "I, Sergei Varseir, am humbled by your presence!"
Even from a distance, the two onlookers could see the sheer mass of the Adonai, who significantly dwarfed the small Sergei.
"I have no want nor need for your introductions," the Adonai growled. "I only need you fulfill our promised exchange."
The gargantuan man motioned to a soldier, who quickly produced a chest of gold and placed it upon the ground.
"Now it is your turn," the Adonai prompted.
A crooked smile crossed Sergei's face. "Of course, Your Honor."
With a clap of his hands, three large men stepped out from the shadows.
"Behold!" Sergei called out. "The mysterious power you've been seeking!"
From within the darkness, a chained Astrid was led forth by two men.
Chains...? Philos' eyes widened, hot ire pumping through his veins.
"Don't—" Vylet began."Hey!" Philos' voice boomed down the alleyway. "Let her go!"
The echo of the words faded.
"Who dares..." the Adonai growled as he turned around, "tell me what I can and cannot do?"
"You heard me." Philos approached slowly, his blade pointed forward.
The Adonai approached as well; rain began to fall as the two stood facing each other.
"Philos—?!" Astrid's words were cut short by a cloth gag.
"I commend your confidence, young man," the Adonai said, his intimidating figure standing high above his opponent. "If you bow before me right now, I will let you keep your miserable life."
Philos smiled a wide grin. "Sorry," he said with a laugh, "but I quit bowing to men like you a long time ago!"
The Adonai scowled as he dropped into a deep stance, his fist cocked back at his side. Suddenly, bright red flames ignited and engulfed his fist. Water sizzled as the heat caused the surrounding puddles to vaporize into the air.
"Very well," the large man said. "What a tragedy that you have chosen this path."
Steam hissed as rainwater pelted onto the Adonai's blazing arm.
"Magic, huh?!" Philos said, holding his sword forward in a ready position.
"Yes," the towering man said as his flaming hand shot forward. "Now burn!"
In a flash of light, fire exploded from the man's fist, slamming into the ground. Surrounding buildings shook as thunderous force quaked the ground. Nearby, Astrid felt heat rush through her body as the flames raged, evaporating every bit of water in the alleyway.
No, she thought as tears began to well in her eyes. Not him...he didn't deserve that!
"Philos!" Vylet screeched as the mist cleared to reveal only broken cobblestone.
"Punk..." the Adonai spat, the flames that engulfed his arm dissipating.
"That's some real firepower you got there!" Philos laughed as he stood behind his enemy.
The Adonai smirked. So he's fast? the Adonai thought.
"You're no ordinary civilian. No untrained person would've been able to evade that. What is your name, boy?"
"Philos," he replied. "Philos Vesper."
The Adonai smiled wide across his mustached face. "Very well, young man! I, Myhael Murdock, accept your challenge!"
Philos smirked. "Wonderful."
The mist that filled the alley was hot, its warmth causing the moisture to seep into the clothes of everyone present.
Suddenly, Philos burst forward, blade ready. Another fireball jolted from the large man's hand, its brilliant heat spiraling forward.
"That's not gonna work!" Philos exclaimed as he jumped high in the air, the blast landing at his feet and exploding in bright red sparks.
The young man's blade rained down from above, a great guillotine that sent out a loud clang as it was deflected by the Adonai's gauntlet. Quickly, the young man switched his stance, bringing his blade upward in a great arc.
"Predictable." The Adonai grabbed the young man's arm. "You have good instincts."
Philos felt searing pain as his arm began to turn a charred black.
Vylet screamed as she ran to his side. "Philos!"
"I'm rather impressed." The Adonai stood tall over the writhing young man. "You've won your life, but you'll never swing a sword again."
Philos squirmed and shrieked, the pain of the burn seething throughout his body.
Why?! he raved in his mind. Why isn't it healing?!
"Now." The Adonai turned away and approached Astrid once more. "Take her away."
No... Astrid's mind felt so empty.
Not again...
She watched Philos as he squirmed.
Why?
Why?!
"Chain the slave and take her away."
The two soldiers removed the gag and led Astrid to the chariot, shoving her reluctant body.
"We'll get to have our fun before you use her powers, right boss?"
Not again...
Not when I had finally made...
A friend...
She could feel the tears welling in her strange eyes.
"C'mon, baby-doll," a soldier whispered into her ear. "We're gonna have some fun."
Suddenly, memories of the guardsman filled her mind, her eyes opening wide in unbridled panic.
NO!!!
"Get away from me!" Frigid ire shot through her veins as black flame exploded from her body. She gripped her chest, feelings of burning engulfing her body, as the two soldiers holding her fell to the floor, dead.
What's happening?! Her mind raced as she fell to her knees. It hurts! This feeling! Oh, it burns!
"It burns!" she screamed in agony.
"I kn-knew it!" Sergei screamed as he fell backwards. "N-Nephilim!"
Astrid's eyes grew wide. "Nephilim?"
"Half-Angel," the Adonai said, his large figure towering over her.
As she turned, black metal locked around her wrist. Weakness shot through her body, the midnight flames thinning until they wisped away with into the air.
Astrid's vision became foggy. "What did you...?"
"Necronite cuffs," the Adonai said. "They'll cancel out any sorcery you could conjure with your 'Given Power.'"
"Given...Po..."
Philos looked up just in time to see her hit the ground.
"Astrid!" Vylet rushed to her.
"Get back!" a soldier commanded as he stood in her way.
"Get out of my way!" Vylet raged as she pushed the man over. "Astrid!"
Vylet hit the ground with a thud as chains wrapped around her ankles as well.
"Assaulting a royal officer?!" the soldier laughed, his thick arms wrapping her wrists in metal binds. "Don't worry! We can take you too!"
"Let go of me, let go—" A cloth gag shoved in her mouth silenced her.
"Astrid!" Philos screamed, trying his best to pull himself upward. "Vylet!"
Suddenly, a club slammed into the back of his head.
And all went black.
"So what brings you here, stranger?" the bartender said as he placed a glass of whiskey in front of a large man in silver armor. "It's not every day that we get travelers in Hazelnut Village."
The man sat still. He was..cold—not in attitude, but rather something about his presence was frigid. He reached for his drink, the glass of the cup fogging up with frost as he wrapped his fingers around it.
"Well, you see," he said, cool mist pouring from his mouth. "I'm meeting someone here. Someone...special. They don't know I'm here to meet them, but they'll figure out soon enough."
"Well," the bartender laughed, "if they don't know you're here, don't wait too long—"
As he spoke, a man in a long red coat stepped through the door, a blue halo glowing above his head. Suddenly, the barkeep stopped, his eyes widening, the glass he was holding falling and shattering on the floor.
"There he is," the chilly man laughed heartily.
"N-no!" the bartender said. "Everyone!" he shrieked to the customers, who were as startled as he was. "Angel! Angel! He's come to take us away! Run!"
In a great confusion, the customers fled for their lives, each leaving their food uneaten, breaking down the exit door, and climbing out the windows.
It wasn't long until the bar was empty, all but the armored man at the bar.
"You know how to make an entrance, Sir Smith." The seated man smiled, frost seeping from his mouth. "That's what you go by now, isn't it?"
"I had a feeling I would run into you eventually, Gilliam," the Angel said as he took a seat beside the other.
"Well, you thought correctly. I have some information that might help in your...quest."
Sir Smith sat still, his face hard as stone. "Just speak."
"Well, I've been watching my brother—the Adonai—for some time now. He seems to be seeking the same thing you are."
"And?"
"Well, according to the spy the Resistance Army has in the government, he thinks he's found it."
The Angel raised an eyebrow.
"Listen to this," Gilliam continued. "Right now, a girl is being taken from Apocrypha City, a girl with strange eyes."
"That means nothing to me." Sir Smith said. "I'm looking for two boys—two boys who will play a part in the regeneration of the world. A girl with freakish eyes is none of my concern."
"Pal Burns," Gilliam said as he took a sip of his whiskey. "You're looking for a man named Pal Burns. He runs a coffee shop now on thirteen Apocrypha Avenue."
The Angel stood without saying anything and walked to the door.
"That is what you seek, isn't it?" Gilliam laughed.
"Yes," Sir Smith said.
"You really are going back there, then, aren't you?"
"I must go, to find," the Angel replied, "the Children of Vespira."