Demonreach
Serf
- Local time
- Today 6:01 AM
- Messages
- 9
- Age
- 29
In the bowels of the earth, deep beneath the world of Hayvn, an awakening began. In this place where heat and pressure rendered it inhospitable, where even the hardiest of microorganisms could survive, a being so old to be aged in the eons stirred from a sleep thought to be endless. A being with no mortal form, formed through the lines of power that ran through the core of Hayvn with such veracity; a force of nature having found sentience, seeking to emerge from that near eternal slumber.
For days as this being dragged itself from the fiery pits of magma and rock, Hayvn shook and split; poured forth its hot lifeblood. Oceans boiled and pitched, crashing upon the lands for thousands of miles, flooding Hayvn's earth. Super-heated winds scorched the flora, the beasts of air brought to land, asphyxiated by the ash and smoke that blocked the sun and sky, and those that lived would meet an end just as horrendous. Wildfires burned as endlessly as the storms that raged. From the now-emptied magma pits, its lava pouring out to ravage the land, a shadow fell upon the earth.
Ash and smoke blocked out the sun for seasons as this shadow, formless in the clouds, pulled itself together. It's power, a primeval force, shook the foundations of the world; broke and fissured the land; lakes and oceans vanished and reappeared elsewhere, larger or smaller; valleys threw themselves up into the sky, piercing the clouds and dominating the heavens; mountain ranges toppled themselves, forming deep canyons for as far as the eyes could see. It would be a new world, a new age, one dominated by ice and snow when the beast would emerge.
A thought, the first of what would become many, formed, "I am… awake…"
Itss gaze took on the birds no longer able to fly due to the storms that raged so terribly, and thought, "I too would fly."
The shadow grew wings, dark and sinister, and dispersed those clouds.
The sun, so eager to touch the new world, melted the ice and brought life, old and new, back.
Rays of light made holes in the shadow and it hissed, seeking shelter. It saw how the snakes and lizards came out to bathe in the sun, their scales glittering in sunlight, and thought, "I too would live."
Scales formed out of the shadow, defining it and giving it corporeal form, the cold shadow feeling warmth for the first time. It drew in its first breath of air since its emergence, feeling the oxygen rush into its lungs, and with that first breath of air, came the first pain of hunger.
The now corporeal force of nature watched the predators of the land and sea and thought, "I too would hunt."
A giant maw filled with rows of teeth made for rending flesh; talons thick and large as an ancient tree, capable of felling those ancient trees with a single swipe of those sharp claws; a tongue, forked and able to strip meat from bone; eyes that pierced the darkness and could see miles in any direction.
As the shadow expended its magical power into giving itself form, and satisfying a bottomless hunger, the shadow knew exhaustion.
It thought, "I too would dream."
Dreaming, the First Dragon found comfort. Its dreams were full of great wingspan dominating the skies as it glided across the world; rising taller than mountains, to reach the realms of the angels. Awakening, an experience it knew it had felt before if somewhere distant in its memories, the First Dragon looked across the world from its perch --- a mountain much like it had dreamed of, the cold distant and its scales soaked up the sun's warmth--- and felt alone. Until a fated night that saw a star fall from the night sky, a star that raced faster than the dragon could beat its wings; faster than the dragon could fly across ocean, across land, the star entered the atmosphere with an explosion of sound and fire.
The dragon came across the crater that had resulted in the impact of the star, which had hit the earth with almost as much excitement as the dragon's birth. The black eyes of the dragon, flecked with spots of starlight, stared.
From this crater arose a figure on two legs, whose feathered wings attempted to spread; the fragile bones of which were broken. It held a shaft of pale, blue light; strands of light split away, leaving the shaft in a dark blue flash of fire; a shield of similar blue fire glowed dully in the aftermath of the impact. It vanished moments later, hissing in protest.
The invader shimmered with that same light, the dragon realized; an aura of blue with filaments of silver and green laced throughout. The dragon, as depthless as its own strength was, felt something like fear. It was not an emotion the shadowed beast associated with itself; knowing that those it hunted had similar feelings, however primal and basic as they were.
It had heard the animals often as it watched from some distance, communicating in their own ways. Those were perhaps the loneliest times of its life. It did not feel any need to reduce itself to the level of its prey, for all they would do was beg and it was merciless in its hunt.
However, this warrior of blue light neither prey nor hunter; oh, hunter yes, but of a different kind. The dragon, frustrated by its isolation, wished to speak and thought, "I would speak."
The shimmering figure looked up into the sky, staring at the dragon with golden ringed eyes that fragmented into three colors: blue, green, and purple, those colors swirling and mixing at the edges of each other's domains, "Fear not, He Who Guards Against The Storm, your thoughts are safe with me. I do not wish to fight, so do as you do and know that you are not alone."
The dragon was taken aback by the alien thoughts, so different and so alive compared to the thoughts of the animals it hunted; so full of that radiance that it glowed with that to think it was another would be blasphemous. It believed the figure that looked up at its immense form, and as the great beast stared back, alighting upon the ground near the other.
"I am Thornedriel, First Angel and Commander of the Celestian Host, although it seems that I am a former Commander…"
"You are the first to have called me something other than a Shadow, for that is all these simple beasts know."
More and more, as the two shared their thoughts; the walls of their minds crumbled before the onslaught of experiences shared.
The First Angel spoke aloud for perhaps the first time, in a clear, precise tone like a single sharp chime of a bell, 'Names are both a gift and a curse, but I will not be looked upon as a simple animal. I name you Kru'ul, for you are no Shadow, you are a Dark Sun, the First of your kind as I am. As I have named you, be free and be bound.'
Power seethed the air as the First Angel spoke.
The Dark Sun hadn't felt such Power since he had… He?... first became aware.
The pronouncement of his Name had felt like a second awakening, a proclamation to the world and its denizens as to who he was. That his form, so carefully manifested from a hellscape of wild, primal magic, had finally been given life. A life bestowed upon him by Thornedriel. A roar shook the earth for leagues, wings spread to shimmer with a dull, dark radiance that seemed to be a foil to the Angel's own.
'All you have known is chaos and destruction, the survival of the strongest, let me show you another way. I have given your life new breath, so that your wings may shroud the world in their dark glory. I was born to a world of war and bloodshed, upon the Plains of Urse-Themiel, as were my brothers and sisters after. We felt your manifestation, and where they saw an abomination, I saw a friend. An ally.'
The words spoken aloud made sense to Kru'ul, and as Thornedriel spoke, their minds touched; images and feelings intermingling with the words. There was turmoil within the Angel's mind, a conflict that couldn't be hidden, but it was for a much simpler reason: the First Angel no longer felt alone, and neither did the Dark Sun.
The two beings would spend their eternities with their minds embracing each other, inseparable from thought and action.
As Thornedriel bled upon the earth, creating the first elves; Kru'ul, whose very nature was that of the earth and magic, created the beasts of magic: other dragons, griffons, unicorns, basilisks, and a myriad of others that have been lost to time. Together, Angel and Dragon taught the Elves and beasts to coexist.
Thornedriel wished to remain upon Hayvn, to find where Kru'ul had been given life so that he may sleep as deeply as the Dragon once had. Kru'ul wanted to visit these Plains of Urse-Themiel, to meet Thornedriel's brothers and sisters that the Angel often spoke at length about. To test his abilities as a Power against his friends' foes that were such a scourge.
'Please, do not leave, old friend. You are needed here,' Thornedriel said, insistent. 'But if you must leave, I shall not bar you.'
And so, the great dragon, the first of its kind, spread its shadow-scaled wings and took flight, leaving Hayvn in search of a world he only knew about through memories, filled with a people that hated him. In his departure, Kru'ul shed a single scale for Thornedriel, bestowing upon it his Power.
Thornedriel, whose wings never healed, strode the earth in search of a place to rest and coming upon it, sorrow tinged the graceful features of the statuesque Angel.
'Hello, Brother Phirion.'
Silence answered the First Angel of the Celestian Guard at first, but in the miasmic cloak of the Second Angel's magic, came a low chuckle; dark, ominous, 'Die, little angel.'
For days as this being dragged itself from the fiery pits of magma and rock, Hayvn shook and split; poured forth its hot lifeblood. Oceans boiled and pitched, crashing upon the lands for thousands of miles, flooding Hayvn's earth. Super-heated winds scorched the flora, the beasts of air brought to land, asphyxiated by the ash and smoke that blocked the sun and sky, and those that lived would meet an end just as horrendous. Wildfires burned as endlessly as the storms that raged. From the now-emptied magma pits, its lava pouring out to ravage the land, a shadow fell upon the earth.
Ash and smoke blocked out the sun for seasons as this shadow, formless in the clouds, pulled itself together. It's power, a primeval force, shook the foundations of the world; broke and fissured the land; lakes and oceans vanished and reappeared elsewhere, larger or smaller; valleys threw themselves up into the sky, piercing the clouds and dominating the heavens; mountain ranges toppled themselves, forming deep canyons for as far as the eyes could see. It would be a new world, a new age, one dominated by ice and snow when the beast would emerge.
A thought, the first of what would become many, formed, "I am… awake…"
Itss gaze took on the birds no longer able to fly due to the storms that raged so terribly, and thought, "I too would fly."
The shadow grew wings, dark and sinister, and dispersed those clouds.
The sun, so eager to touch the new world, melted the ice and brought life, old and new, back.
Rays of light made holes in the shadow and it hissed, seeking shelter. It saw how the snakes and lizards came out to bathe in the sun, their scales glittering in sunlight, and thought, "I too would live."
Scales formed out of the shadow, defining it and giving it corporeal form, the cold shadow feeling warmth for the first time. It drew in its first breath of air since its emergence, feeling the oxygen rush into its lungs, and with that first breath of air, came the first pain of hunger.
The now corporeal force of nature watched the predators of the land and sea and thought, "I too would hunt."
A giant maw filled with rows of teeth made for rending flesh; talons thick and large as an ancient tree, capable of felling those ancient trees with a single swipe of those sharp claws; a tongue, forked and able to strip meat from bone; eyes that pierced the darkness and could see miles in any direction.
As the shadow expended its magical power into giving itself form, and satisfying a bottomless hunger, the shadow knew exhaustion.
It thought, "I too would dream."
Dreaming, the First Dragon found comfort. Its dreams were full of great wingspan dominating the skies as it glided across the world; rising taller than mountains, to reach the realms of the angels. Awakening, an experience it knew it had felt before if somewhere distant in its memories, the First Dragon looked across the world from its perch --- a mountain much like it had dreamed of, the cold distant and its scales soaked up the sun's warmth--- and felt alone. Until a fated night that saw a star fall from the night sky, a star that raced faster than the dragon could beat its wings; faster than the dragon could fly across ocean, across land, the star entered the atmosphere with an explosion of sound and fire.
The dragon came across the crater that had resulted in the impact of the star, which had hit the earth with almost as much excitement as the dragon's birth. The black eyes of the dragon, flecked with spots of starlight, stared.
From this crater arose a figure on two legs, whose feathered wings attempted to spread; the fragile bones of which were broken. It held a shaft of pale, blue light; strands of light split away, leaving the shaft in a dark blue flash of fire; a shield of similar blue fire glowed dully in the aftermath of the impact. It vanished moments later, hissing in protest.
The invader shimmered with that same light, the dragon realized; an aura of blue with filaments of silver and green laced throughout. The dragon, as depthless as its own strength was, felt something like fear. It was not an emotion the shadowed beast associated with itself; knowing that those it hunted had similar feelings, however primal and basic as they were.
It had heard the animals often as it watched from some distance, communicating in their own ways. Those were perhaps the loneliest times of its life. It did not feel any need to reduce itself to the level of its prey, for all they would do was beg and it was merciless in its hunt.
However, this warrior of blue light neither prey nor hunter; oh, hunter yes, but of a different kind. The dragon, frustrated by its isolation, wished to speak and thought, "I would speak."
The shimmering figure looked up into the sky, staring at the dragon with golden ringed eyes that fragmented into three colors: blue, green, and purple, those colors swirling and mixing at the edges of each other's domains, "Fear not, He Who Guards Against The Storm, your thoughts are safe with me. I do not wish to fight, so do as you do and know that you are not alone."
The dragon was taken aback by the alien thoughts, so different and so alive compared to the thoughts of the animals it hunted; so full of that radiance that it glowed with that to think it was another would be blasphemous. It believed the figure that looked up at its immense form, and as the great beast stared back, alighting upon the ground near the other.
"I am Thornedriel, First Angel and Commander of the Celestian Host, although it seems that I am a former Commander…"
"You are the first to have called me something other than a Shadow, for that is all these simple beasts know."
More and more, as the two shared their thoughts; the walls of their minds crumbled before the onslaught of experiences shared.
The First Angel spoke aloud for perhaps the first time, in a clear, precise tone like a single sharp chime of a bell, 'Names are both a gift and a curse, but I will not be looked upon as a simple animal. I name you Kru'ul, for you are no Shadow, you are a Dark Sun, the First of your kind as I am. As I have named you, be free and be bound.'
Power seethed the air as the First Angel spoke.
The Dark Sun hadn't felt such Power since he had… He?... first became aware.
The pronouncement of his Name had felt like a second awakening, a proclamation to the world and its denizens as to who he was. That his form, so carefully manifested from a hellscape of wild, primal magic, had finally been given life. A life bestowed upon him by Thornedriel. A roar shook the earth for leagues, wings spread to shimmer with a dull, dark radiance that seemed to be a foil to the Angel's own.
'All you have known is chaos and destruction, the survival of the strongest, let me show you another way. I have given your life new breath, so that your wings may shroud the world in their dark glory. I was born to a world of war and bloodshed, upon the Plains of Urse-Themiel, as were my brothers and sisters after. We felt your manifestation, and where they saw an abomination, I saw a friend. An ally.'
The words spoken aloud made sense to Kru'ul, and as Thornedriel spoke, their minds touched; images and feelings intermingling with the words. There was turmoil within the Angel's mind, a conflict that couldn't be hidden, but it was for a much simpler reason: the First Angel no longer felt alone, and neither did the Dark Sun.
The two beings would spend their eternities with their minds embracing each other, inseparable from thought and action.
As Thornedriel bled upon the earth, creating the first elves; Kru'ul, whose very nature was that of the earth and magic, created the beasts of magic: other dragons, griffons, unicorns, basilisks, and a myriad of others that have been lost to time. Together, Angel and Dragon taught the Elves and beasts to coexist.
Thornedriel wished to remain upon Hayvn, to find where Kru'ul had been given life so that he may sleep as deeply as the Dragon once had. Kru'ul wanted to visit these Plains of Urse-Themiel, to meet Thornedriel's brothers and sisters that the Angel often spoke at length about. To test his abilities as a Power against his friends' foes that were such a scourge.
'Please, do not leave, old friend. You are needed here,' Thornedriel said, insistent. 'But if you must leave, I shall not bar you.'
And so, the great dragon, the first of its kind, spread its shadow-scaled wings and took flight, leaving Hayvn in search of a world he only knew about through memories, filled with a people that hated him. In his departure, Kru'ul shed a single scale for Thornedriel, bestowing upon it his Power.
Thornedriel, whose wings never healed, strode the earth in search of a place to rest and coming upon it, sorrow tinged the graceful features of the statuesque Angel.
'Hello, Brother Phirion.'
Silence answered the First Angel of the Celestian Guard at first, but in the miasmic cloak of the Second Angel's magic, came a low chuckle; dark, ominous, 'Die, little angel.'