Hey, you, do you know who loves stories the most?
Haven't you ever wondered where the concept of stories came from and who created the first story?
No?
Well, too bad.
Did you know the universe is a big place? It is filled with so many things. Spiraling stars. Galaxies that never end. Planets that cry blood and wormholes to timelines that no longer exist. The life of a Lordian is surely a life worth living, wouldn't you say?
The Almighty traveled far and wide to find the planet known as Awed-Rivkah, and it is said that when he landed upon it, he founded the lands known as Gallenth, the holy lands, where the sacred tree with branches that could reach the stars stood.
Initially, it was stated that the Almighty used their power to create everything. The first life that populated the world were beings made out of solid light. They were known as the Angels. They served the newly created world but eventually left it when the Almighty had to depart and rest. In their place, the Angels made their own creation—the dragons.
The dragons were mighty beings, each having the heat and wings that the angels wielded. They could fly through the skies, swim through the seas, and forge the mountains themselves into their own homes. Eventually, though, the dragons grew bored. They were all that was in the world. They were grand and powerful, but that was because there was nothing else for them to be above.
The dragons came together and used their power to create brand new life. Ones that they could rule. This life was known as the giants.
Just as the dragons received gifts from their creators, the giants inherited the raw power and height that the dragons had. To ensure the giants couldn't overthrow them, though, the dragons didn't give them scales or wings, nor did the giants have tails or claws. The giants roamed the world, getting into fights and making their own kingdoms, and at last, the dragons had a race they could control and force to serve them.
The giants didn't like being servants, though. It got in the way of their own infighting and wrath. The king of the giants decided that the only thing that could be done was to create a new race that could serve the dragons in their place. He gathered his energy and his strength, and he created the elves.
The elves weren't much stronger than the giants, as the giants did not want anything that could threaten them. Instead of raw power, the elves were granted a strong mind. They used this mind to serve the dragons and the giants faithfully, and it is said that their worship was so grand it even brought a few of the angels back. The angels were moved by the elves' existence and blessed them with a gift of their own, creating the first beings that could properly wield magic, something neither the dragons nor the giants could do.
With this new gift, the elves decided they needed to study, learn, and cultivate, so they created a brand new race to take their place alongside the dragons and giants—a race known as the humans. The weakest of all races, the humans lacked the power of the giants, the bodies of the dragons, the light of the angels, and the magic of the elves. They were truly at the very bottom of the food chain.
Yes, yes, we all know that tale. The story of how the first beings were made.
Except… Who told it?
Haven't you ever wondered? The angels were all gone. The giants, the elves, and the dragons were reduced to numbers so low they might as well not even exist. So, how was it that humans knew of the Almighty, who had left before even their creators' creator was created?
Why? That fact is simple, really.
The universe is a vast place. It truly does have so many secrets and things to see. Did you know the Almighty wasn't the first being to create life?
Planet Awed-Rivkah had life. Beings existed upon it. Beings who loved to tell stories and write and laugh and cry. Beings who longed for the stars and became shocked when those orbs in the sky came down to them. Beings whom the Almighty used as inspiration for his first creation. Beings who had their own dreams, wants, and desires and told stories new and old and followed their king around the pyre, dancing and singing as if there was no tomorrow.
These beings, if you really had to give them a name, would probably be called Fairies. These beings were the ones who spoke of the Lordians and those who came from the sky. They were the ones who passed on the information down the sea of creation until even the lowliest of creatures, the filthy, disgusting humans, knew of the Almighty and the Lordians who sailed the ocean known as the cosmos.
Hey, did you know? Hawks eat Fairies.
***
Once upon a time, there was a child born not out of love, desire, or care, but instead the need to create a being that could serve as the administrator for Awed-Rivkah.
This being was one of many who were grown and forged inside a sea of darkness as cold as the abyss. The very story that made them up was planned by beings far older than they could have any hope of knowing.
This child, this lonely, wretched creature, opened its eyes for the first time and saw darkness, and when it cried out to the void, no one was there to hear it.
The only mercy this wretched soul had was the fact that it did not have to grow up in this cold and lonely place. Its mother, if you could even call her that, would take the being into her arms and stare at it in delight, for she knew she had her next body. And so, the being would be raised by a mother and a father, just like any normal child, and just like every child, the parents would decide the life of their child for them, for in this world, from the moment you are born to the moment you die, you exist on the path that was written out for you.
The child would grow up in a land famous for creating the greatest swordsman who ever lived. A land where blades were forged to split the skies and seas of blood wrapped around the coast. The young child would be taught the ways of the dark by his mother and the ways of the sword by his father. Most importantly, this child would be taught how to live, how to laugh, how to know joy, and how to tell stories from his older brother.
The brother was a being forged of lightning and fury who vowed to save the child, who existed solely for a fate worse than death. It is the duty of an older brother to protect the younger sibling after all.
The brother spent his life honing his skills, learning the ways of lightning, the spear, and the bow, all so he could do the duty of an older sibling. He would spend time with the child every day if he could, ensuring he would always have a smile that could last, and at night, it would be he who made sure the child slept soundly and securely until at last the brother had enough.
He had learned the truth. His brother, the child, was no mere weapon. No. He was meant to serve as the vessel for an evil that had been vanquished long ago. The child's very own parents were raising a blank slate they could throw away.
Enraged, the brother would grab the child and attempt to flee the lands. He had created a boat, one he forged himself and intended to sail away to lands never before seen, all to avoid the fate of his younger sibling. He would not make it far before the child's father, the same father to the older brother, would arrive and demand the vessel be handed over to him.
The brother would do everything in his power to save the child, even take up arms against his own parent, the sword-wielding father. In a battle that would last three days and nights, the brother and the father would duel, and it would end with the death of both of them. And so came an end to the story of Sieg and Orion Hawker.
With no one left to get in the way, the mother of darkness, she who used to be a saint, would tear the sword, which had corrupted and tainted her so long ago, out of her very soul and implant it into her child. Thus, she would die, and the child would be all that was left. So came an end to the story of Titania Midsummer.
What none of them failed to realize, however, is that the brother did in fact save the child. This child, who would be a blank slate, now knew love and joy and sorrow, and with a heart full of rage, it suppressed the blade within it and refused to let it take it over. It sheathed it deep into the ground, in the very same void it had been born into, and left it there to rot.
And so that boy, with hair the color of snow and eyes a shade of deep purple, would use his control over dark light to leave the island.
The boy would travel far, far away, leaving everything behind. Those who had slain his world, his brother, were all gone, and so there was nothing to aim his revenge at. This child would instead arrive in a place where the sky touched the world, and in isolation, he would grow up.
Years of solitude would go by, and this child would live how he wanted, honing the same spear technique his brother passed down to him, thus creating the first-ever Dark-Lightforged art, the Way of the Shadow Splitting spear, and by the time he would master it, gone would be a child, and instead, a man would take his place.
Having truly mastered the spear to the point it had become an extension of his own hand, the man of darklight would travel the world and learn just how much time had passed him by.
He would do the thing his older brother never got, and that was to live a life worth living and grow. He vowed to show the skills his brother never got to use, and in a very short amount of time, the man became known as the Darklit warrior.
It was quite easy for him to make a name for himself, as thanks to his unique way of being, he was seemingly immortal and long-lasting, living for nearly one thousand years, all without showing a sign of aging past his peak maturity.
He would engage in many fights, but his most notable ones were against a group known as the Arcane Knights, which he would easily defeat and behead the king that ran them, along with destroying his strange mechanical form. He also did battle with a strange multiheaded beast that lived in an ocean of blood, which he killed with a single strike. Of course, his greatest battle of all time was against a powerful Cultivator.
She came from a land where spirits resided and thrived, and she had spent her whole life attempting to reach a level only heard about in legends. A level known as the Lordians, which she had read about. For over a thousand years, she had cultivated her power and energy, passing her soul down through various bodies until at last she had reached her peak.
She and the Darklit warrior battled for over a year straight and destroyed the holy land known as Gallenth, reducing it to ash and vaporizing all of its people.
They then got married and had lots and lots of kids.
For Ken Hawker, the world's strongest cultivator, she was truly satisfied. The Darklit warrior would wake up a final time, blessed with immortality, standing next to his wife, who would also live forever, and he would stare out at the many kids and the lands he had conquered, remembering fondly his brother, who had died oh so long ago.
And then the world would end, all life would die, every child he ever knew and every dream he ever had, it would all be reduced to ash as the stars themselves blinked out and the universe ceased to be, leaving the Darklit warrior trapped in an endless sea of white, for he was nothing more than mere words that survived the destruction of their novel, and all he had left was the blank page.
With nothing else to do, he would go mad and draw upon that sword that was deep within the darkness he left behind, hoping that some way, some how, it would bring him salvation.
The end.
***
Once upon a time, there was a child born not out of love, desire, or care, but instead the need to create a being that could serve as the administrator for Awed-Rivkah.
This being was one of many who were grown and forged inside a sea of darkness as cold as the abyss. The very story that made them up was planned by beings far older than they could have any hope of knowing.
This child, this lonely, wretched creature, opened its eyes for the first time and saw darkness, and when it cried out to the void, no one was there to hear it.
The only mercy this wretched soul had was the fact that it did not have to grow up in this cold and lonely place. Its mother, if you could even call her that, would take the being into her arms and stare at it in delight, for she knew she had her next body. And so, the being would be raised by a mother and a father, just like any normal child, and just like every child, the parents would decide the life of their child for them, for in this world, from the moment you are born to the moment you die, you exist on the path that was written out for you.
The child would grow up in a land famous for creating the greatest swordsman who ever lived. A land where blades were forged to split the skies and seas of blood wrapped around the coast. The young child would be taught the ways of the dark by her mother and the ways of the sword by her father. Most importantly, this child would be taught how to live, how to laugh, how to know joy, and how to tell stories from her older brother.
The brother was a being forged of lightning and fury who vowed to save the child, who existed solely for a fate worse than death. It is the duty of an older brother to protect his little sister after all.
The brother spent his life honing his skills, learning the ways of lightning, the spear, and the bow, all so he could do the duty of an older sibling. He would spend time with the child every day if he could, ensuring she would always have a smile that could last, and at night, it would be he who made sure the child slept soundly and securely until at last the brother had enough.
He had learned the truth. His sister, the child, was no mere weapon. No. She was meant to serve as the vessel for an evil that had been vanquished long ago. The child's very own parents were raising a blank slate they could throw away.
Enraged, the brother would grab his sister and attempt to flee the lands. He had created a boat, one he forged himself and intended to sail away to lands never before seen, all to avoid the fate forced on his younger sibling. He would not make it far before the child's father, the same father to the older brother, would arrive and demand the vessel be handed over to him.
The brother would do everything in his power to save the child, even take up arms against his own parent, the sword-wielding father. In a battle that would last three days and nights, the brother and the father would duel, and it would end with the father letting go of his sword, allowing the spear of his own child to run him through.
"I can not do it!" The father would cry. "I can not slay my only son, my beloved son, my hopeful son. Go. Take your sister, and never come back."
And so, Orion Hawker would die.
The brother, along with the cursed child, would get on their ship and sail away. They would go, far, far away, to lands never seen before, and as the island vanished in the distance, the older brother would hug his younger sibling and run his hands through her black hair and stare into her red eyes.
At last, they were free.
The mother, who had lost her lover and now her greatest creation, would stare out with hate as the final bit of life left her weak form, and she would crumble and shatter, breaking apart, and die. The sword within her would not find its host. At least not for now.
And so Titania Midsummer would die.
The siblings would arrive at a place no human had ever seen or heard of before. A great castle that resided on the sea, and they would meet a creation as old as the Almighty. Beings who had unlocked the secret to immortality. These immortals served their queen, the Goddess of Change, the one who walks the red sea, the lady of night, and the crimson drinker.
This lady of the red sea, this Goddess, would look upon the siblings, gazing at the young maiden who had been brought before her. A maiden who belonged to the Hawks. The Goddess would allow them to take shelter within her realm, and so the doors to Avalon would shut, and the castle would fade.
The cursed child would be given a life of luxury. She would be raised like a princess, becoming the official daughter of the Goddess. As for her brother... Avalon was a kingdom of women, and so the cursed child would watch as her brother was drained of all that he was, his life feeding the castle and its inhabitants.
And so, Sieg Hawker died.
The cursed child did not cry for her lost brother; however, for his death had been one that brought about life and allowed her to thrive and live. She would have a new life, one in which no harm could ever reach her.
At last, the cursed child knew that she was able to become anything she wanted, and in this story she became a being of darkness. She would feast on the blood of her brother and become the Vampire Princess. She would wield the Scar of Shadows and arrive on the frontlines to personally fight the Sea God, Neptune, and his army of Argonauts, and it would be she who beheaded the being of the ocean, giving his head to the Goddess of Change.
The Goddess of Change would reward her great follower by allowing the cursed child to evolve. She would go from a daughter to a bride, becoming a member of the dark harem fated to live forevermore.
And thus the day of the abyss would come.
For too long, those who walked in the day tore apart their world and set off the counterbalance. No longer would they corrupt their oceans and lands. The Vampire Princess and her Queen, as well as her wife, Queen Rosette, would take to the ultimate war, and they would flood all land above them in a sea of red. Gore would rain, and shadows would spread.
The war would only last a single year before the great Vampire Princess would slaughter the king of Knights, the greatest Cultivator, and the great being of metal.
In just a single year, all life besides those of vampiric origin ceased to exist. At last, the Goddess of Change had done it. She had brought about world peace, all thanks to her greatest warrior.
At last. A happy ending.
And then the world would end, all life would die, every vampire the cursed child ever knew and every dream she ever had, it would all be reduced to ash as the stars themselves blinked out and the universe ceased to be, leaving the vampire princess trapped in an endless sea of white, for she was nothing more than mere words that survived the destruction of their novel, and all she had left was the blank page.
Well… Her and one other thing.
A sword, one never bonded with, would also survive the destruction, waiting for her to draw it.
Perhaps it would bring her salvation?
The end.
***
Once upon a time, there was a child born not out of love, desire, or care, but instead the need to create a being that could serve as the administrator for Awed-Rivkah.
This being was one of many who were grown and forged inside a sea of darkness as cold as the abyss. The very story that made them up was planned by beings far older than they could have any hope of knowing.
This child, this lonely, wretched creature, opened its eyes for the first time and saw darkness, and when it cried out to the void, no one was there to hear it.
The only mercy this wretched soul had was the fact that it did not have to grow up in this cold and lonely place. Its mother, if you could even call her that, would take the being into her arms and stare at it in delight, for she knew she had her next body. And so, the being would be raised by a mother and a father, just like any normal child, and just like every child, the parents would decide the life of their child for them, for in this world, from the moment you are born to the moment you die, you exist on the path that was written out for you.
The child would grow up in a land famous for creating the greatest swordsman who ever lived. A land where blades were forged to split the skies and seas of blood wrapped around the coast. The young child would be taught the ways of the dark by his mother and the ways of the sword by his father. Most importantly, this child would be taught how to live, how to laugh, how to know joy, and how to tell stories from his older brother.
The brother was a being forged of lightning and fury who vowed to save the child, who existed solely for a fate worse than death. It is the duty of an older brother to protect the younger sibling after all.
The brother spent his life honing his skills, learning the ways of lightning, the spear, and the bow, all so he could do the duty of an older sibling. He would spend time with the child every day if he could, ensuring he would always have a smile that could last, and at night, it would be he who made sure the child slept soundly and securely until at last the brother had enough.
He had learned the truth. His brother, the child, was no mere weapon. No. He was meant to serve as the vessel for an evil that had been vanquished long ago. The child's very own parents were raising a blank slate they could throw away.
Enraged, the brother would come up with a plan to save the child, but he never got the chance to do it, for as luck would have it, the mother would have a fated encounter with a being who would tell her a grand secret.
The brother and the child would find themselves caught in a devastating attack, brought on by an enraged dragon, and thanks to the help of @#$%^@#$%^&&^%#$@##%$__+
This allowed them to survive the attack, and by some strange miracle, they were brought to the future, nearly one thousand years later. The two brothers would eventually separate because of the manipulation of {}+++(_(^&(&^()((&(&^%$^%&(^(^() who called herself Evelyn, and the child with raven hair and blue eyes would find himself becoming the heart of another story, one in which a familiar blade resided within him, waiting to be unleashed.
This child would grow and become a knight in ebony armor, mastering the sword and going from land to land looking for the dragon that nearly killed him. He would eventually arrive at a village known as Fri; however, it brought him no interest, and so he would leave it behind, unknowingly allowing all of the inhabitants to die, and the Lance of Victory would arrive too late to save anyone.
This, Ebony Knight, would keep traveling the land and battle a snake that was attacking a town called Daisy, and while he would kill it, he'd be wounded and slowed down and would eventually be captured by the Arcane Knights.
That same day, a man by the name of Garon would cure his magical mutation, but it would sadly result in the death of his daughter. He wouldn't get to live a long life, however, as he'd be violently torn apart and slaughtered by a woman known as Hannah, who had somehow found the truth of the matter.
The Ebony Knight would be forced to take on the Arcane Knight exam and would feel extremely alone, wandering around all by himself. With nothing to lose and no care if he got found out, he would do battle with nearly everyone, exposing his armor right away, and would even engage in battle with Captain Crow.
This battle would impress the captain, and so the Ebony Knight would join the guild known as Umbra Mortis. Hours later, he would be attacked by a mysterious being who could manipulate blood, and the Ebony Knight would be stabbed through the heart.
In his dying moments, he would grasp at anything that could save him, and a very familiar sword deep within him would call out. By drawing the blade, he would unleash its full power, and the soul within would become him.
And the Phoenix of Black was reborn!
With a new vessel and a new power, the reborn Ebony Knight would slaughter the being of blood, along with his entire guild. He would do battle with the son of Haru and slay him as well, turning his body into new armor that he could don. With all his power, he would forge a mighty mask, one of Lunar Light, and raise his sword to the skies, calling upon his father, the Lord of Order, and together the two of them would destroy everything in the solar system, ensuring that Haru never got the satisfaction of wiping out his world.
Everything would then come to an end, and the Lunar Knight would laugh as he remained standing in a blank void.
At last, he had won.
So…
Why didn't it feel like an ending worth getting?
***
Once upon a time, there was a child born not out of love, desire, or care, but instead the need to create a being that could serve as the administrator for Awed-Rivkah.
This being was one of many who were grown and forged inside a sea of darkness as cold as the abyss. The very story that made them up was planned by beings far older than they could have any hope of knowing.
This child, this lonely, wretched creature, opened its eyes for the first time and saw darkness, and when it cried out to the void, no one was there to hear it.
And so, the child did the only thing it could. It saved itself. That empty, shadowy void, that pit of darkness, became ignited in a light. One of a brilliant gold, that was like a star. It shone, and it shone, and it shone, and it provided warmth to the child in the cold.
The mother of the child finally arrived to check on her greatest creation. She expected a corpse or a wretched monster of a being, but instead she found beauty. She found salvation. With a mere touch of his hand, the child would purge the darkness within his mother's heart, wiping away the cursed blade and the shadows.
Titania would weep as she was set ablaze, but they were not tears of sorrow, pain, or anger. At last, she had done it. The cursed thing within her had lost, for she had created a being of light. An Administrator had been born.
The Administrator would leave his land of darkness, bringing about a sea of golden light. Those in Mordheim would bow before him as the new Shogun, for he was able to do the impossible and slay the Hydra of the Bloodsea, purging its corruption and darkness.
The Administrator, along with his brother, a being forged in Lightning, would travel the world, bringing about his holy light to those who needed it.
He would meet with the last Giant of Rossum. He would battle the Iron God of Gallenth. And finally, he would slay the false Administrator who sat upon a throne of lies in Esteria. His greatest act of all would be the forging of a new World-Tree, and bringing about the races which had been lost. The Elves, the Dragons, the Giants, the first humans, the fairies, and even the angels.
The Administrator and the king of the fairies, Oberon, would meet at the roots of the World-Tree, and they would shake hands, vowing to stop the coming destruction.
A new world would thrive and stand, and the Administrator, now known as the Immortal Saint of Salvation, would gather everyone's hopes, everyone's dreams, all their prayers, love, and desires, and he'd forge them into a key, unlocking the gates of Rome.
However, it would all be for nothing.
By the time the Saint returned, he would come back to an empty world. A world that no longer existed. All that was left was a blank page. And so, with nothing to do, he did what he imagined every other version of himself did.
He began to write.
***
Cycle after cycle. Story after story. Loop after loop. The world reset, existed, fell apart, rebuilt, and remade itself, over and over again, all so it could reach a destructive finale. A horrible ending to a book filled with only pain and misery.
And Haru would look upon it all, the blood of the Almighty raining down upon her, and thus she would speak.
"How could you? How could you betray my world?"
And Hope Lauren would stare back at her and say. "I'm sorry."