+++++++++++++++++So, here it is, the first story that I've posted on this Forum. This is just a prologue chapter though.
Well, here we go!
Fate-Dovahkiin
Prologue: The Beginning
Life can be cruel, especially to those who do not deserve it. Fate even more so, bringing two injured souls together only to tear them apart when they have finally healed and fallen in love. Such was the tale of Saber class Servant Arturia Pendragon and her Master Shirou Emiya during the Fifth Holy Grail War.
Two people who had been dealt an unfair hand in life, their bond of love forged in the fires of the Grail War, only to be forced to let each other go, despite wishing otherwise. It was only in death that they could ever meet again. Yet even that was unlikely, for it required Avalon to accept Shirou, seemingly an impossibility.
Yet, the tiniest pebbles can create the largest ripples. But for this instance, the pebble is a boulder that creates a tsunami. For Shirou discovers something about his true origins that would affect not only those around him, but also change the course of the Fifth Holy Grail War.
+++++++++++++++++++++
Hell on Earth. Those are the only words to describe what is occurring in Fuyuki City. The heart of the city is consumed by the flames of the Seven Hells, the very air thick with corruption and the stench of burning flesh. Normal everyday people having been caught up in the aftermath of a single man's decision, were panicking, for no warning was given for this nightmare.
As the fires rage around him, a single man with blood red hair attempting to aid others by casting a shield made of light aspected aether. This was for the group of survivors he was guiding to make a run for it, but the strength of the flames proved to be too strong as he is slowly being overwhelmed.
"RUN!" The man yells at those behind him, cracks appearing upon the arcane shield like a spider web, reaching out to the edges. "GO NOW!"
Everyone that could help the injured did as they all streamed out from the shield. Only one person remains, a young boy with the same blood red hair as the man, wearing a simple white and black t-shirt and blue jeans. The boy opens his mouth to argue, but the man interrupts him before words can be spoken.
"Shirou, listen to me!" Instructs the man. "There's something I need to give to you!"
The man hesitates for a second, but with a sudden hardening of his features preparing himself, the man takes one of his hands off the shield. Screwing up his face in concentration and with a brilliant flash of light a sword thrumming with power appears in the outstretched hands of the young boy. Etched into the blade just below the hilt are what appear to be runes of some make. These symbols of power almost appeared to have been etched into the metal by the claw or talon of some great beast.
But before Shirou can read the runes clearly there is another flash of light and an exquisitely designed sheathe appears. The same scratch mark-like runes were carved right below the blade's hilt would meet the sheathe. The word Krein resonates inside the young boy's mind, though he had no hint to the meaning.
"These are - and Magnus. They will aid you from now on, always keep them safe. Now run, I won't be able to hold these flames back for much longer!" The man shouts at Shiro over the roar of the hell fire and screams. He turns his back to the child with one last command. "GO!"
With wide shattered gold orbs, Shirou nods his head tears flowing through the ash stained cheeks as he sheathes - into Magnus, his feet carrying him away. The man breathes a small sigh, one that is never heard over the crackling of the flames. With the sound of shattering glass, the shield finally breaks.
"May the Eight and One watch over and keep my son safe," flashes through the man's mind as the vile flames consume him.
Sometime later…
Nature, it seems, has had enough of the accursed flames as water begins to fall from the sky. Leaving only a world of ash and debris of the heart of Fuyuki. Through this scene of devastation, a lone ash dusted figure staggers through the downpour as if they are an automaton.
How long has he been fumbling through this wasteland? The young boy can't tell, nor can he bring himself to care. All he feels is the pain in pulsing from his arms and legs. A dull empty ache in his chest as though...
Shiro crumples to the ground, sheathed sword still clutched tightly, as the corruption in the air from the fire finally takes its toll on him; mind, body, and soul. For as he had staggered through the flames, a malicious entity reached out, grasping at his memories, and for every step he took another thought intertwined with different emotions was stripped away from him. It was as though the entity were trying to burn away everything that made the boy human.
As the cold embrace of death starts to seep into his very being, something in his field of vision changes. A blurred humanoid shadow appeared, a man with a desperate air surrounding him, his hollow eyes flashing about looking for something, a rat's nest of darkness weighed down with the rain and streaked through with flakes of ash. When the man's hollow gaze meets Shiro's, a small spark of hope flickers across his face. The stranger then grasps Shirou's hand and miraculously the cold grasp of death gives way to the warmth of life.
"He's alive!" the man cries joyfully to the night. "He's alive!"
The sweet scent of honeysuckle slips through the stench of the burnt city washing it away and bringing with it a warm golden light. As it disappears Shirou feels life flow into his body, the feeling resonating with his very soul. As he looks up into the tear-filled eyes of the stranger, Shirou noticed the look of pure joy upon his face.
"I wish I could be that happy," is his last conscious thought before the darkness of sleep consumes him.
++++++++++++++++++++++
Unknown Location…
"It has begun?" A voice asked in the gloom of what appeared to be an immense underground ruin. It held a tone that spoke of countless years of watching the world, and held the weight of doing so.
The source of the voice happened to come from the only light source that lit up the being's surroundings. The outline of the owner taking a vague humanoid shape made of bright golden light, standing on top of a small pool of water that lay below a stone altar of some make. In the background to the right, the dim light of a forge's fire could be seen, still burning after countless eons.
"Geh, Nii Lost. Nunon, Til Los Aan complication." replied another voice from the darkness. One could tell there was an inflection of worry in in the second beings voice. It too held the tone of wisdom beyond its years, but not to the same degree as the first.
"What do you mean?" The light that made up the other entity was now fluctuating. It was as though the other words had instilled some sort of fear into it.
"Ok Jul Lost bled Ko Ok Dovah Sil." Responded the second voice, as with the shuffling sound of talons and scales a Dragon, with scales the color of freshly fallen snow and eyes an electric blue, came forth into the light.
"Nay that will not be a complication, my son. It will temper his urge to dominate those around him. That is something his world does not need."
"Then how Fen Ok Sil react Wah Fin Kosil Lein?" The Dragon questioned again in the same guttural growl of the language it knew to the very core of its soul.
There was a pause, one that seemed to stretch onward for what felt like hours, until…
"As to that… I do not know." The being of light answered honestly. Soon afterwards, it shoulders sagged as a sigh escaped from unseen lips.
"Why Drey Hi allow Daar Mun Wah Golt…?" the Dragon trailed off as if not wanting to insult or upset the being of light.
"Why? Paarthurnax… do I not care for all of my sons?" Instead of sounding upset, indeed from the way it sounded, the divine entity was more amused if anything.
"Geh, Father. But still, why?" The white dragon, Paarthurnax, persisted.
"… To save him from a path of ruin. And to also fulfill a pact made long ago between myself, and a mortal king."
There was a long pause, then the voice from the light asked, "I take it you will be teaching him the Way of the Voice.?"
"Geh, Bromahu."
"Remember, he cannot know of his status as your brother until he has been trained for five years’ time," the formless figure told Paarthurnax.
"I understand Bromahu."
"Then farewell my son."
With the sound of falling water, the being of light disappeared, leaving Paarthurnax alone once again to ponder things over in the semi-darkness.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++
Let me know what you guys think ok?
OK, now back to the grindstone, for typing!
JA NE!
Reply With Quote
