Computer

My computers broken, so no writing for a few days. On the bright side I now know i can post from my kindle.

HFX, and The Triad

http://halcyonicfalconx.newgrounds.com/

Phyrnna, or Halcyonic Falcon X as she is more probably known, has long been a source of inspiration for me through her music. So I sent her a message two weeks ago and asked if I could post a link to her page and name a character after her. She said yes so I named one of the three original vampires Phyrnna. Aaaand, here's the story that she debuts in. It's going to tie in with Xadian's story.

Definitely go check out her music. Especially A Light in the Darkness of Destruction, which greatly inspired the battle between Crow and Xadian in Tournament of the Clans.

The Triad of Original Vampires.

There once were three mortals, so beloved of the gods, that they were given one wish each. After much counsel between the three, they each wished for the same thing. Eternal life. The gods, so enamored of the three, granted this wish. However, what is given must also be taken away, and the three soon became starved for the blood of others. And so, they were doomed to feed off of the lifeforce of others in order to sustain their own. And, as they fed, they grew in power. One gained control over light and dark, and learned to heal himself. This was Troso, the most powerful of the three. Another, the sole girl of the three, learned to control time and space, jumping across the world in the blink of an eye. This was Phyrnna. And the third had mastery over the four elements, fire, earth, water, and air. This was Krantos. As time passed by and they stayed the same, they learned how to bestow eternal life upon others. They were wise, and chose who received this blessing, and curse, well. However, the ones who received eternal life were not so careful, and fed ravenously, turning more end evermore mortals into immortal. As the numbers of these individuals increased, they quickly became a scourge upon the world, feeding recklessly and causing the deaths of thousands. The mortals were quick to retaliate. As the original three looked upon what they had done, they were disgusted. Did eternal life cause such abandon, they asked. However, Krantos was opposed to their way of thinking.

“Why should we not rule over these mortals,” he asked. “They are small, and weak,” he said.

But Phyrnna was quick to stand against him, and Troso was in the middle. He attempted to reconcile the two, to make Krantos see Phyrnna's side. But Krantos was stubborn, and started preparing to attack. So Troso sided with Phyrnna and rallied any immortals he could against Krantos.

By now they had all lived for a thousand years, and the mortals had coined a term for them. Vampires. Those who survive as parasites, living off of the blood of others, causing death and destruction wherever they went. The three original were the most powerful, although there were many who had the same powers. Many joined either side, but most to Troso and Phyrnna's. Troso was nothing less than a legend, and Phyrnna was a strong influence for good. However, Krantos had ideals that appealed to many, vampires naturally being creatures of destruction.

As the armies massed, tensions grew stronger. Troso never stopped his attempts at peacemaking. Even as the three walked onto the battlefield, with their armies at their backs, Troso attempted to talk Krantos out of it.

“I'm giving you a chance,” he said. “Take it.”

Krantos, ever stubborn, declined, even as he faced down two of the three most powerful vampires ever, as well as an army twice his own. Krantos was the first to attack, lunging for Troso. His attack was stopped, but the vampires, so loyal to Troso, took this as a threat against themselves. The armies clashed.

The war raged for a dozen weeks, even as the armies dwindled from thousands to hundreds, then again to a mere hundred a side. Troso and Phyrnna's side was rallied by their presence, but Krantos's army was culled from the strongest of the vampires, the ones who were naturally the most destructive.. The battlefield, once a sprawling desert, was now a devastated wasteland, with lava running from cracks in the ground. Through it all, the original three had never stopped fighting.

Troso stood ahead of Phyrnna, who had taken a blow to the side. He himself had taken many hits, but his healing abilities were unparalleled. He stood there, light glowing in one hand and darkness shifting in the other. Krantos held a staff in his own, fire and water flowing over it. They were circling each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Troso was the first, clapping his hands together. As light and dark mixed, the hate they had for each other reached a peak.

Troso threw his arms wide, and a wave of power exploded in a half circle away from him. It raced towards Krantos, who slammed his staff into the ground. Pillars of rock, entire mountains, burst from the earth, taking the force of the wave. It sliced right through them all, barely slowing down. But it was weakened enough that Krantos could raise a shield of water to protect himself. He started running with the shield, which took whatever attacks Troso tried. Ten feet away, the shield dropped and Krantos raised his hand to punch Troso. Fire blazed in his fist, an explosion waiting for the right moment. Troso caught the punch, and with a quick jerk flipped Krantos over his shoulder. He didn't even turn around, he just punched the ground and a pillar of shadow exploded into Krantos from below, throwing him back in front of Troso. Continuing the combo, Troso caught Krantos's leg before he hit the ground. He spun once before throwing him thirty feet through the air.

Troso fired off a dozen balls of light and dark before teleporting behind Krantos, who had twisted around in the air so he could land on his feet. Troso caught him in a grapple, with an arm against his throat, holding him as Krantos was hit by the shots he'd fired. Each one exploded against his chest, throwing both of them back a few feet each time. Krantos finally started struggling, jerking this way and that before hooking a foot behind Troso's and jerking it forward, toppling them both over. Troso took the brunt of the fall, with Krantos landing on top of him.

Phyrnna was watching all of this, her side still bleeding. But her wound was healing, the air steaming as it did so. She began to get to her feet.

The two of them had scrambled to their feet, still fighting even as they did so. Troso had Krantos in another grapple, one arm twisted behind his back. He pulled up, jerking Krantos's arm out of its socket. Krantos jerked away, pulling free. His arm hung straight down, immovable. He raised the other and an almighty wind started blowing, picking him up and raising him through the air. Troso tensed, and shadows formed on his back. They shifted, molding into the shape of wings. A second passed before they burst into motion, lifting him into the air. As he rose to the same height as Krantos, a light shone in his hand. It grew, until it was too bright to look at, then faded. In his hand was a scythe, with a seven foot long handle and a blade that shone in the moonlight.

They stared into each others eyes, these once inseparable friends. They had grown up together, then turned into monsters together. Now, one attempted to end the monstrosity, and the other to increase it.

Krantos had formed a sword of fire and water, and the metal of the blade was constantly melting and reforming, bubbles forming along the edge. A single cut from it would be devastating, burning and even melting flesh. They hovered for a split second before Krantos dove to attack. Troso blocked his first strike before backing away. They repeated this, Krantos attacking and Troso fluttering back a few feet. Finally Krantos simply punched the air and a series of explosions detonated on the ground, flinging rocks into the air at breakneck speed. The air was suddenly full of debris, an obstacle course that required split second timing. Troso dodged one rock, blew another to pieces in an explosion of shade, and kicked a third into Krantos, who fell thirty feet before righting himself.

Troso dived after him, still dodging flying rock. He hooked one in the blade of his scythe and flung it at Krantos. It stopped in mid air, frozen by Krantos's power. Then it flew back towards Troso, knocking him out of the air so hard the rock broke into powder and Troso's wings snapped on the way down. He plowed into the earth, creating a trench ten feet deep and fifty feet long. The impact stunned him, knocking the breath from him. A pillar of flame exploded a few feet away, out of which stepped Krantos. His arm had healed by now, and he had complete control of it. He held his sword over Troso, who was still helpless from the fall.

“Good bye, Troso.”

Just then, Phyrnna acted. She teleported in front of Krantos, already punching when she came out. Krantos, however, was faster. He caught her fist and threw her behind him. She teleported in front of him again, coming out with the same velocity as she went in. She flew into him, flinging both of them to the ground. Phyrnna was the first to get back up. She made to pick up Troso's scythe but Krantos grabbed her leg and pulled it out from under her. He lifted his sword to strike her down. Then the first ball of shadow exploded into his back.

Troso had gotten up, and had his hands out to the side. Floating in his palms were two large spheres, one white and the other dark. Krantos got back up from where he had fallen, sword in hand. He sliced through another sphere and jumped another, letting the explosion propel him towards Troso. His melting blade met one of pure light, and an explosion blew them apart. They landed on their feet and leapt back to the attack. Every time their blades met the ground splintered and fire and light erupted. Spears of rock lanced out of the ground, trying to impale Troso as a river of boiling water surrounded him. Troso wove his cloak of shadows thicker to protect himself and kept fighting, his blade flying faster than either of them could see. This was a game of reflexes and instinct.

They fought for a minute, trading lucky blow for lucky blow. Krantos raised two pillars of rock, one on either side of Troso, then brought them together. Troso blew them both apart and caught a dozen splinters in an orb of shadow. The orb exploded, throwing inch long spears in all directions. A few stuck in Krantos, but didn't even slow him down. He threw his arms wide and, as Troso made to strike him down, everything within a hundred feet burst into flames.

Phyrnna teleported away as flames raced towards her. Safe, she watched, as a half sphere of pure darkness formed across the entire battlefield, blotting out the sun. Troso was using all his power in a last ditch attempt to end it.

In the complete darkness inside the dome, Troso and all his men who had control over darkness were strengthened. As his men rallied and fought harder, Troso raised his arms. A thousand spheres of darkness rose from the ground, and as Krantos summoned a flame to see by, they all flew towards him.

They combined in an explosion that blew him back several hundred feet, straight into the midst of a miniwar still raging at the edge of the dome, between several of Troso and Phyrnna's men and several of Krantos's. Flames and orbs of light were dancing above the war, a spotlight in this world of darkness. Two of Krantos's men broke off to pick him up but were waved away. One of Troso's tried to attack him, but caught fire before he could even swing. A wind rose and blew him away, back into the war.

The top of the dome was starting to break up. Troso couldn't keep supplying the power it needed, and the sun wasn't helping. It grew thinner and thinner until a thread of sunlight broke through. It started disappearing.

Troso was on his knees, trying to find the energy to fight further. As sunlight filled the dome, Krantos was walking his way. He had found his sword, and it was so hot the metal was on fire. As he walked he dragged the tip along the ground, leaving a trail of fire. Then, a hundred feet away, someone split from the battle.

It was Troso's general, his most trusted fighter, a vampire by the name of Aberthol. When the sun had penetrated the dome, everyone had raised a shield or some other protection against its effects. As he ran, Aberthol's shield, a cloak of darkness like Troso's had been, was removing itself from his body. It formed a sphere in his hand. Even as he smoked and caught fire from contact with the sunlight, he was channeling all his power and energy into the sphere. Krantos had stopped and was turning when Aberthol caught up to him. Aberthol's outstretched hand collided with Krantos's face. And exploded.

Aberthol was thrown one direction as Krantos was thrown in the other. Troso had retrieved his scythe, and now threw it. Krantos and the scythe's paths intersected, and Krantos landed in two pieces, his legs and lower torso a few feet from the rest of him.

Troso ran to his general's body and knelt by him. He was still alive, but only just. He was missing most of his right side, including his arm, which had been at the forefront of the blast.

“My lord.” He gasped. Blood was spreading around him and he was still on fire.

“Your sacrifice has given us victory, my friend. You will not be forgotten.”

“All I wish is to die in your stead. Please, do not weep for this small soul.”

Troso watched as his friend took his last breath. The fire that had been licking at him now grew into an inferno, consuming his body. Troso watched for a second then walked over to stand over Krantos, who
was also still alive.

Fire was playing in his hand, licking at his blood. His eyes were distant, staring into the sun.

“Goodbye Troso. This is the end, for both of us.”

Fire leapt from his hand to the puddle of blood expanding from his torso. All it took was a split second and it ignited, blowing Krantos to pieces. The explosion was heard for a hundred miles in all directions, tearing the battlefield to pieces and obliterating everyone still fighting.

Or so Troso heard, because in the split second it took for Krantos's blood to catch fire, Phyrnna appeared behind him. She threw her arms around him and teleported them both away, to safety.

The next day the two of them surveyed the empty battlefield. As they looked upon the destruction and the resting place of so many, they wondered at what had happened. Was this what came of their existence? Were they nothing but creatures of destruction and death? Distraught, the two of them called upon the gods, as they had so many years before.

They asked the gods to remove them from this world, to kill them and cast out all memory of them. But the gods, for once, were weak. They couldn't bring themselves to kill the two, the two remaining favorites. So, they bartered. They would remove them from this plane of existence, from this dimension, and place them in another. One which all of the most powerful of their kind would inhabit upon their deaths. Placated, the two set out on one last journey. They both bit and turned one mortal each, who would continue their respective bloodlines and continue the race as a whole. These two, along with one turned by Krantos who had avoided the final battle solely to continue Krantos's bloodline should he die, would walk the earth until death finally found them, turning others diligently and with caution, so as to prevent such a battle ever happening again.

And so, the two transcended this plane. They were removed from this reality, to enjoy a TRULY immortal life. And they watched, through windows into this reality. They watched as thousands of years passed. As young grew old, as the weak turned powerful, as vampires grew into the thousands, then dwindled into the dozens. They watched, picking favorites among their own kind every now and then, and removing their souls from this reality when they died, inviting them to join the Triad.

Commentary: Not much to say here. I kept wanting to call Troso Xadian. I'd say Xadian was the reincarnation of Troso, but you kind of need your soul to be free for that. Maybe Aberthol will be reincarnated as Xadian. It seems fitting.

I was sort of going for an ancient folk tale kind of story, where it's being told around a campfire, with no real knowledge of what happened and what was exaggerated. Then I planned for it to split in to actual third person for the fighting. After that it turns back to the folk tale thing. I like to think to myself that the final part, where they remove themselves from this reality, never really made it into the folk tales, and is just now being told for the first time.

A word about Krantos. Even though Phyrnna hates him now, he still pops up in this alternate reality. Mostly because some of the gods still liked him. Mostly the more warlike gods. I say Phyrnna hates Krantos because I'm not sure Troso is really capable of hating him.

Fog

Just got back from Walmart, and there's an amazing heavy fog that makes all the lights stand out. The sky's an amazing shade of greyish-blue, and it makes me wish I had a camera better than the one on my phone. I'm getting huge SlenderMan vibes. Maybe He's out hunting.